Mobile Suit Gundam SEED DESTINY: Red Planet
by ShadowCell
Summary: AU, CE 76. The survivors of ZAFT lie in exile at Mars, and find themselves embroiled in a civil war among the Martian colonists. But amid the anger and bloodshed, they look with hope upon their hero and standard-bearer, Kira Yamato...
1. Phase 01: Hero of Mars

Mobile Suit Gundam SEED DESTINY - Red Planet

—

Disclaimer: _Mobile Suit Gundam SEED_, _Mobile Suit Gundam SEED DESTINY_, _Mobile Suit Gundam SEED CE 73 STARGAZER,_ _Mobile Suit Gundam SEED ASTRAY_ and its various spin-offs, _Mobile Suit Gundam SEED MSV, _and _SEED DESTINY MSV_ are the property of Bandai and Sunrise, not me. I make no money off this venture. This is purely for entertainment purposes, and no copyright infringement is intended.

—

This is a sequel to my retelling of _Gundam SEED DESTINY_, by the same name. That story was a sprawling tale that spanned two years, six separate pieces of fanfiction, and about a hundred characters. It was an alternate universe version that took some rather divergent paths from the original story of _Gundam SEED DESTINY_. This story is not exactly necessary reading for the main sequel, "TWILIGHT," but it does explain what a major group of characters are up to in between _DESTINY_ and "TWILIGHT."

I will post a new chapter every Friday, or the soonest day thereafter should something arise on Friday to keep me from posting.

—

The year is Cosmic Era 76, and war is raging throughout the colonies of Mars. The exiled army of ZAFT and their allies, the Zodiac Martian Alliance, do battle against the Martian Liberation Army for control over Mars and its colonies. As the war rages, ZAFT continues to rebuild its military forces, preparing for the day they can return to the Earth Sphere and take revenge for their defeat.

In the meantime, however, as the soldiers of ZAFT nurse their grief and hatred, they look for hope in the person of their champion, the man who carries their standard into battle...

—

Phase 01 - Hero of Mars

—

**November 15th, CE 76 - Event Horizon Colony, orbit of Mars**

Death.

It was everywhere. The void of space was death itself, if you thought about it—and if you lived in that void, you had to come to the conclusion that death was around you at all times, forever waiting for that one foolish mistake, that one forgotten seal, that one accident that would suck you into its cold and unforgiving embrace and make you its own. At least on the Earth, you left a body, a grave, something that could be remembered. In space, it was nothing but stardust.

Today, the void had an army of assistants as it claimed its latest toll. It was a battle; it was war. Two fleets of warships, surrounded by death's ever-present void, were at war. Between them flitted an army of humanoid machines. One such fleet was arrayed before a wheel-shaped space colony, pitted and scarred—but it was clearly losing to the other.

And between them all, in the void, were bodies.

The man who watched them all could not count the bodies.

The man sat inside the dark confines of a mobile suit's cockpit. War had left its mark on him—underneath a blue and black, white-highlighted flight suit, the shapes of his arms and legs did not appear to match each other—as though the right arm and left leg were made of metal, and only the left arm and right leg made of flesh. But as one's eyes reached his face, there one could see what war had cost him, at least in physical form—a scar over his right cheek, and a tangle of scars and ruined flesh that culminated in a sinister red sensor that replaced a living left eye, a painful contrast to the gentle violet right eye. He wore the scars and the adornments of a soldier...but in that one remaining natural eye, one could see that he was no soldier.

Vice Marshal Kira Yamato, field commander of the forces of ZAFT, glanced around the cockpit of his loyal steed, his white and pure Strike Freedom Gundam. The screens showed only death around him as he approached the colony.

He thought back to his mission, his very presence here. ZAFT was here with the Zodiac Martian Alliance to destroy once and for all the forces of the Martian Liberation Army, as they clustered around this colony of Event Horizon. ZAFT and the ZMA had spent the better part of a week, and the lives of thirty ZAFT soldiers and almost five hundred ZMA personnel, trying to break the MLA's stranglehold on this colony. It was one of their major points of defense for the MLA's headquarters on the moon of Deimos. Take Event Horizon and the MLA's defense of their nerve center would have to crumble.

That was what his officers had told him; that was what _she_ had told him. All he had to do was believe them.

A cluster of mobile suits rose before him, weapons drawn. Kira narrowed his mismatched eyes at them—worker mobile suits, Civilian Astrays and Raystas and Works GINNs. They were all Event Horizon could muster. He sent the Freedom's blue DRAGOON units streaking forward, and in an instant, the web of beam fire had torn apart the enemies before they could attack.

Kira recalled his DRAGOONs and tore through the wreckage of his foes, angling towards the colony. He glanced up as a transmission came in.

"Sir," the voice of a young Hispanic man said, "Commander Svante reports that the ZMA's ground invasion on Event Horizon has begun."

Kira nodded grimly. That meant he had to hurry. "Thank you, Juarez," he said, clicking the screen off. He glanced over his shoulder, at the three Force Impulse Gundam units in formation behind him, all emblazoned with the mark of FAITH on their left shoulders. They would destroy whatever he missed. "Attention all ZAFT and ZMA forces; this is Vice Marshal Kira Yamato. Begin securing the colony as quickly and bloodlessly as possible."

Behind the charging Gundams, the ZMA fleet and the supporting squadron of ZAFT warships moved forward, with the mobile suits plowing through the meager defenses of Event Horizon. Kira swarmed his DRAGOONs around an access hatch in the colony's hull, blasting it apart and wiping out two more beam gun-wielding Civilian Astrays in the process. The DRAGOONs returned as the four Gundams dove into the colony.

Kira looked around grimly at the inside of the colony wall. It was littered with bodies—civilians.

"Marshal, sir," a girl's voice spoke up—Kira keyed on the screen, glancing at the ZAFT Red flight suit-clad girl with brown hair and blue eyes, one of which sported a wicked crescent-shaped scar. "Are these civilians?"

Kira nodded soberly. "This colony was the destination for refugees of the Cosmo X23 attack, Kara," he explained. "I told Rear Admiral Graham to broadcast a warning. Either that warning was never heeded, or it was never broadcast."

"But sir," the third pilot protested—Kira glanced over at the black-haired, black-eyed ZAFT Red in the third Impulse unit, "they should have seen this coming for an MLA colony."

Kira narrowed his eye at the young man. "Don't judge civilians who just want to escape the war, Gary," he said crossly. "I was once one of them."

Gary fell silent as Kira deployed his DRAGOONs again, blasting open a secondary hatch. The Freedom and its DRAGOONs slipped through, coming back together in the gushing air as the three Impulse units followed, and the four Gundams continued through into the colony.

"Marshal," another voice cut in; Kira glanced over at the image of a ZAFT Black Shirt officer aboard one of the ZAFT ships. "Colony exterior secured—enemy forces in full retreat. I don't think the MLA believed they could defend this colony. They didn't have many troops here."

"No, they didn't," Kira agreed. "Keep the outside secure. There's still fighting going on inside."

"Aye sir." The screen went dark, and Kira returned his attention to his front.

"Sir, Brigadier General Raymond reports that his men have secured the Event Horizon headquarters," Juarez spoke up.

"Then we need to hurry—" Kira started, falling silent as a familiar sense of danger pricked at his consciousness. "Ambush!"

Kira slammed on the brakes, his three Force Impulse escorts doing likewise, as the colony superstructure came to life with a barrage of beam blasts. The Freedom deployed both of its beam shields, and Kira squinted through the blaze to find the passage alive with Event Horizon mobile suits.

"They have the passage blocked!" Kara exclaimed. "Sir—"

"I'll handle this," Kira cut her off.

The Freedom's DRAGOONs blazed to life, showering the Event Horizon mobile suits with beam shots and destroying several of them with its first volley. Kira leveled off both of his beam rifles, along with his railguns and Callidus cannon, and smashed another enemy squad out of the fight.

The three Impulse units lunged out from behind their gleaming commander, beam rifles leveled, and opened fire on the Event Horizon troops as they struggled to defend themselves.

"Kara, Gary, advance forward," Kira ordered. "Juarez, we'll cover them."

The Freedom lunged forward and lined up for a full burst, smashing a quintet of mobile suits into pieces. Juarez's Impulse squeezed off a trio of beam shots, as Kara and Gary finished off the remaining mobile suits, leaving only scrap metal in the space that had once been alive with beam fire.

"That looks like all of them," Gary reported. "It doesn't look like they could mount another ambush before we reach the inner hatch."

"Then let's get through it," Kira said. "The ZMA troops are already at the enemy headquarters, and who knows what they're up to."

Kara and Juarez slashed through the inner hatch with their beam sabers, and backed away as the hatch went spiraling away with a blast of air from inside the colony. The Freedom and its escorts lunged through the opening, taking off into the cylinder. Another squad of Event Horizon mobile suits came charging forward, beam guns blazing—a concentrated barrage from the Impulse units took them down, and Kira burst through their wreckage, angling for the coordinates of the enemy headquarters.

"Event Horizon's leaders have surrendered, sir," a ZAFT officer reported.

"Broadcast that message across the battlefield," Kira answered. "All ZAFT and ZMA units are to stand down, and we'll accept Event Horizon's surrender."

The Freedom came in low over the ground, alighting by a dilapidated building that had been torn apart by artillery shells. It was surrounded by ZMA armored vehicles and mobile suits, and the green and black uniforms of the ZMA were everywhere, as soldiers swarmed over the wreckage.

Kira glanced towards the tent where it seemed the unit's commander had made his post—and his eye flashed angrily as he saw a number of cowed men in suits being beaten by ZMA troops. He yanked off his helmet and opened the hatch, seizing his sidearm from the cockpit's survival case and emerging onto the hatch.

"Stop it!" he shouted—the soldiers looked up in surprise, and leapt to attention, saluting as Kira lowered himself to the ground, living eye flickering angrily. "You've been told to obey the Corsica Treaty's provisions when dealing with prisoners! What are you doing this for?"

"But, sir, nobody at Mars has signed the Corsica Treaty—" a major began to protest.

"That doesn't matter!" Kira snapped. "We're better than that! Now get out of here and go make yourselves useful! I'm not going to tolerate behavior like this!"

The ZMA soldiers scuttled away in defeat, as a squad of ZAFT soldiers emerged to help the men to their feet. Kira holstered his pistol, glancing over the battered bureaucrats.

"I presume you are the leaders of this colony," he began.

"W-We are," one of the men stammered.

"Then you can discuss the terms of your surrender with Marshal Sunogachi," Kira answered. "Until then, your surrender will be unconditional. An ambassador will be here shortly to work out the details."

"Very well, Vice Marshal," another man mumbled. "But the fighting—"

"Order your forces to cease fire and lay down their arms," Kira said. "That is my only demand."

The defeated bureaucrats nodded, and followed the ZAFT soldiers as they were led away. A flak-jacketed ZAFT Black Shirt appeared next, greeting Kira with a salute.

"There are still a few pockets of resistance, sir, but we've got the colony interior mostly secure," the officer said. "The surrender broadcast has just been issued, but it will probably take a few minutes for most units to receive it and cease fire."

"I understand," Kira said, "but the less blood we shed here needlessly, the better. Get the Event Horizon leaders out of here, and make sure they're guarded by ZAFT troops." He scowled after the ZMA soldiers. "I'm going to have to speak with President Schroeder about this."

"But sir, the ZMA is technically a sovereign entity," the officer protested. "I'm not sure you can enforce laws on them."

"There are only three powers at Mars that can contest each other," Kira answered, "and the ZMA is only able to take on the MLA with our help. Schroeder will have to listen." He glanced back at the Strike Freedom. "My work here is done. I'll leave the occupation to Commander Svante."

"Yes sir," the officer answered with a salute.

Kira suppressed a sigh and headed back towards his Gundam.

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_**, Event Horizon Colony, orbit of Mars**

Sitting back and adjusting the cap of his ZAFT White Shirt uniform, Captain Lyle Markus of the _Fortuna_ watched impassively as his great winged ship slowly pulled away from Event Horizon, its complement of Gundams safely onboard with its modest squad of GOUF Ignited units. The thin-faced, blond-haired man cast one last disdainful glance towards the nearby ZMA fleet—a pathetic collection of blue-painted _Marseille III_-class freighters, jury-rigged for armaments and mobile suit support facilities. And since the ZMA was made up mostly of Naturals, they were clearly inferior soldiers. But such was war.

The bridge doors slid open with a hiss, and Lyle joined the bridge crew in rising to salute the dark-uniformed Vice Marshal Kira Yamato. Kira adjusted the blood-red cuffs and mantle of his black uniform, returning the salutes with the black-gloved mechanical right hand, and drifted down next to Lyle's chair.

"I hope the casualty reports aren't too high," Kira said. "Can we contact Messiah?"

"Transmission is coming through now," the comm officer answered. Kira looked up at the main screen.

He struggled to hold in check the urge to smile like a schoolboy at the lovely face of Marshal Valentine Sunogachi, the supreme commander of ZAFT. Once again she was clad in a more elaborately-decorated version of his own black and blood-red ZAFT uniform—although Valentine had seen fit to add a cape to the back, for reasons that still eluded Kira. It was like she wanted to look evil—and Kira knew that to be an inaccurate portrayal. Valentine was powerful and tough, but certainly not evil.

"Event Horizon has fallen, Marshal Sunogachi," Kira said with a salute, settling for icy military formality. He caught the glimmer in his beloved's eyes. "The soldiers were successful; now the politicians can take over."

"Impressive as always, Kira," Valentine answered, allowing herself only a small smile. "Soon we'll be able to finish off the MLA and get back to work."

Kira plucked up his courage. "On that note, ma'am," he said, hoping he could get back to Messiah soon and back into a setting where he didn't have to call her "ma'am," "I am requesting permission to meet with President Schroeder over the actions of his troops. I don't think it's helping, and there's nowhere better to go than straight to the top."

Valentine nodded. "Assent is given, then," she said. "I've already dispatched an ambassador to Event Horizon to handle the surrender more fully. Excellent work, Kira." She smiled again, this time with an almost undetectable hint of the love and lust that Kira knew so well. "Hopefully this war will be over soon, yes?"

"We'll do our best," Kira answered, feeling flustered.

"I'd expect nothing less," Valentine said. "And send my regards to President Schroeder. Messiah, out."

The screen went dark. Kira glanced down at Lyle; the captain merely nodded.

"Helm, set course for the Olympus Mons colony." He glanced back up at Kira. "Should we request an escort, sir?"

"It won't be necessary," Kira answered. "Not too many units would attack us on the way to the ZMA capital colony." He paused. "Except for _them_." He shook his head and turned towards the bridge doors. "I'll be in my quarters. Inform me if anything comes up."

—

**Martian Liberation Army Headquarters, Deimos**

The petty officer in the dark brown uniform was almost trembling as he watched the reptilian man before him in the black suit, with a red and white sash down the front, read the report. The man turned his eyes up towards the officer.

"Generalissimo Vargas," the officer began, "the captain of the _Syrtis Major_ reported that the MLA task force at Event Horizon was able to pull out with minimal casualties."

Emmanuel Vargas narrowed his beady black eyes at the report. Event Horizon had fallen, with its leaders surrendering unconditionally to the might of ZAFT and the Zodiac Martian Alliance. They had betrayed him—the MLA had promised Event Horizon investment and trading privileges after the war in return for their support, but all it had taken to break that illustrious alliance was the flashing yellow eyes of the Strike Freedom Gundam. Traitors.

Well, they would just have to die with the rest.

"At least our own forces were able to escape," he said. "Send word to Commodore Shaw that I want his squadron back here at once. ZAFT is beginning its final thrust, and we'll certainly want to parry it."

"Yes sir," the officer said, scuttling away with a salute. Vargas sat back, brooding, and brought up another file on the screen before him.

"The next arms shipment will be arriving soon," he said quietly. "What of the Earth Sphere's detritus will you be giving me this time, Lord Djibril...?"

He sat back and glanced out his office window. The huge shape of a satellite was slowly coming together outside. A massive, dish-shaped center with three arms stretching off, lined with solar panels—and three pentagonal panels around the rest of the sides.

"The Beelzebub Array," he told himself, "will burn away all traitors."

—

It was all just noise to nineteen-year-old Lieutenant Agnes Brahe as he stood in the corridor overlooking the ship dock, arms crossed over his brown Martian Liberation Alliance uniform. He hated these clothes, and only wore them when dealing with the MLA's leader, Emmanuel Vargas. This uniform was a sort of oath to that man, to serve him and his interests—and Agnes found few things more distasteful than the thought that he was a servant of Emmanuel Vargas. He was a servant of Mars and the Austral Colony, first and foremost, and his sword was dedicated to vanquishing the specter of ZAFT for the good of the people of Mars—not for the good of a politician of Mars.

After all, Emmanuel Vargas was the sort of man who coldly calculated which colonies were worth saving and which were not. What kind of man worth fighting for did that?

Agnes glanced to the side, finding his dark-skinned, blond-haired friend approaching. Lieutenant Junior Grade Nahe Hershell leaned tiredly against the railing, glancing out over the ships in the dock—and in particular the small, sleek, crimson-painted _Acidalium_.

"I suppose you heard the news about Event Horizon," Nahe said. "Shame. Commodore Shaw pulled out rather than fight to defend the colony, so Event Horizon's security force got totally butchered."

"I heard," Agnes said quietly. "I can't believe that Shaw pulled out. What a coward."

"Eh, he had five ships, Event Horizon had eight. They were up against a twenty-ship ZMA fleet and a seven-ship ZAFT squadron. Had he fought them, he would have been eaten alive."

Agnes snorted indifferently. "What kind of soldier refuses to fight because he's afraid to die?" He shook his head. "Vargas should have sent more troops to Event Horizon."

"I guess," Nahe said with a shrug. "But I don't know if it would have made a difference."

"We should be using our power to save every colony from ZAFT," Agnes answered, "not just the influential ones."

"It's not very ethical," said Nahe, "but it's smart politics. And war _is_ just politics with guns and stuff."

"Not this war. This war is about saving the people of Mars from the oppression of ZAFT." He glanced over at Nahe. "Vargas can play all the politics he wants, but that's what I'm fighting for."

Nahe smiled bitterly. "I know." He glanced back at the _Acidalium_. "I guess it's the war we have to thank for the Delta Astray, though. We probably never would have gotten the funding we needed to finish work on the Voiture Lumiere without it."

Agnes ground his teeth at the thought that he owed anything to Emmanuel Vargas. The Delta Astray Gundam was his power, his sword, the Gundam with which he could protect his people. To think that its key technology was made possible by that snake oil salesman of a leader, Vargas...

"We could have finished it," he said angrily. He glanced up at the Beelzebub Array, in orbit of Deimos. "Vargas..."

—

**Martian Liberation Army **_**Izumo**_**-class battleship **_**Elysium**_**, orbit of Mars**

The clipboard fluttered across the bridge, landing in the hands of a crewman. By the captain's chair, an airy sigh issued forth from a man whose face lay behind a silver mask with three circular red eyes, surrounded by a golden mane of hair resting over the brown uniform of the Martian Liberation Army.

In the captain's chair, the grizzled, dark-skinned commander glanced up at the masked man. "Colonel Suzuki," he said, "should we return to Deimos?"

Colonel Omega Suzuki smiled a sinister smile. "Not yet, Howard," he answered. "Event Horizon's fall is not yet the end. If ZAFT wants to truly cripple the MLA, they would have to attack our surface colonies and factories."

"Then what will our course of action be?" Howard asked.

Omega chuckled. "Generalissimo Vargas has tasked me with taking down the _Fortuna_," he said. "A daunting task, to be sure."

"Intel has them setting course for the planet," Howard pointed out. "Looks like they're heading for Olympus Mons."

"I'm sure Vargas will be sending the _Acidalium_ to intercept," Omega replied. "Take us in behind them, then. We'll let the Defender of Mars strike the first blow."

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_**, orbit of Mars**

"If we're just going to Olympus Mons so Marshal Yamato can meet with Schroeder," sighed Kara Guinness as she sprawled out on a couch in the _Fortuna_'s crew lounge, "then there's nothing for us to do."

On the other side of the couch, Juarez Recardo looked up from his cup of coffee. "We'll probably have to fight someone along the way," he warned. "We would be cutting it close to the Arm of God orbital elevator, and that thing's been firmly in MLA hands for months."

Across the table, Gary Talon sniffed indifferently, crossing his arms. "I don't see why the Marshal himself needs to do this," he said. "They don't run out of ambassadors at Messiah to send off to conquered colonies. Why couldn't one of them do it?"

"Why not the Marshal?" Kara answered with a shrug. "It's more impressive if you've got him telling you to do something than if you have some little old diplomat."

"A man with the Marshal's position has to engage in as much politics as combat," Juarez added. "And since we are his adjutants, we must go where he goes."

"Besides, it's an honor to be traveling with the Marshal," Kara added—Juarez and Gary both shifted uncomfortably at the darkening look in her eyes. "When we go back to the Earth Sphere, he's the man who will make everything right. And if I can fight by his side, that's an honor to me." She scowled. "Lord Djibril and his giant doomsday cannons can't take that away from me."

Juarez sighed quietly. "You're from Mars, Gary," he said, "so I'm not sure if you'd understand."

"That's what everyone says," Gary snorted dismissively, running a hand through his long black hair in contempt. "Just because I'm a Martian doesn't mean I'm not a Coordinator."

"Have you ever watched your homeland get blown out of the sky by a giant laser?" Kara asked spitefully. "Unless you have, don't talk like you know how we feel." She heaved a sigh. "That's why we'd all follow Marshal Yamato through the gates of hell."

Juarez sighed as well, glancing down at his coffee. "Some might say we already have."

—

Kira Yamato had no idea how the girl in front of him could simultaneously have been awarded ZAFT Red honors and be serving the unglamorous role of his military adjutant. And "military adjutant" was putting it kindly, as well—in function, her job was more that of a secretary.

Idly, Kira wondered if this was Valentine's idea.

Seventeen-year-old Kayla Segar nervously brushed her long, wavy chestnut hair from her face, fidgeting with the cuffs of her ZAFT Red's uniform. It was rather unusual to see a ZAFT Red in the rather restrictive knee-length skirt—but Kira brushed it all off. She was a diligent and productive worker, and that was all that should have mattered.

Kira sat back in his desk in the master office of the _Fortuna_, glancing tiredly at the door that led to his quarters. A long day required food and sleep, but before that, he supposed, there was work to be done.

"I haven't met with President Schroeder in months," Kira said, glancing back at Kayla. "I hope he's not as vain and obnoxious as he was last time."

"I'm sure you'll be able to handle him, sir," Kayla said with a nervous smile. "No one in the Martian Sphere can match you for influence and fame."

"You speak as someone who has never met President Wilhelm Schroeder of the Zodiac Martian Alliance," Kira said, arching the eyebrow over his good eye and smiling himself. "I suppose you'll understand when we reach Olympus Mons. Just don't give in to the temptation to smack the taste out of his mouth and you'll be fine."

"Um, yes sir," Kayla stammered. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"I don't think so," Kira said, ignoring the feeling of disappointment his nascent Newtype senses picked up from her as he glanced down at the computer screen before him. "The agenda looks fine. I don't have much I want to discuss with him anyway." He shook his head. "It's difficult to have such fitful allies."

"But if anyone can make Schroeder start telling his troops to behave more professionally, it would be you, sir," Kayla insisted.

Kira smiled thinly. "I'm a soldier," he said, "not a diplomat."

"But sir," Kayla said, "people all over the Martian Sphere see you as a hero. And President Schroeder can't compare with that."

Those words dug into Kira's brain for a moment, before he crushed them. "Just because people see me as a hero doesn't mean I am one," he said cautiously.

Kayla nodded in defeat for a moment. "I think you're being too modest, sir," she protested.

Kira sat back. "Better to be too modest than too arrogant," he said. "I think our work for tonight is done, Kayla. You're dismissed. I'll be having you accompany me when I meet with Schroeder tomorrow, though."

Kayla bowed her head for a moment and saluted. "Yes sir." She moved towards the door to leave.

"Kayla?" Kira added. She looked over her shoulder. "Turn off the lights on your way out, please."

"...yes sir," Kayla answered. Kira closed his eye, sitting back as the room went dark and the door shut.

Heliopolis Technical College student. Earth Alliance Forces Ensign. Freedom Gundam pilot. ZAFT Red. FAITH member. Vice Marshal of ZAFT. How had his life gone from that of an awkward teenager at school to the second-in-command of an army in exile? Kayla's words rang in his ears—a hero. Was that what he was? How could he call himself a hero, knowing all that he had done, and all he had failed to do? And for so long, he had fought—was this the result of all that fighting? Floating in space and fighting a pointless war, surrounded by bitter and hopeless soldiers consumed by their hatred, waiting and living only for the revenge that would come with their eventual return to the Earth Sphere? Was that all there now was to his life?

He paused, to consider who was waiting for him in the Earth Sphere. Revenge...it was his calling as well.

_Shinn Asuka...and Athrun Zala,_ he thought, feeling the familiar hatred bubbling up within him again. _I wonder what you're doing right now._

He sat back, staring at the ceiling for a moment.

_One day I'll find out._

—

To be continued...


	2. Phase 02: The Delta Astray

Mobile Suit Gundam SEED DESTINY - Red Planet

Note: For those of you who noticed that there were words fused together or something in the previous chapter, I know about that. It's due to FFN's incredible bitchiness when it comes to my formatting and use of dashes, and it should be fixed, so I guess those of you who did see it caught the chapter before the updated version had shown up on the site. But if it isn't fixed, let me know and I'll, uh, curse at the sky and fiddle with the file format again or something.

—

Phase 02 - The Delta Astray

—

**November 15th, CE 76 - Martian Liberation Army destroyer **_**Acidalium**_**, Deimos**

"The _Fortuna_ is en route to Olympus Mons, alone," Emmanuel Vargas said, his face emblazoned on the _Acidalium_'s main screen. "I should not have to tell you that this is a golden opportunity to destroy one of the leaders of our enemies."

"I understand, sir," Agnes answered, crossing his arms over his light blue civilian attire, fighting back the urge to scowl. "We'll be there to intercept him."

Vargas narrowed his eyes at the _Acidalium_'s crew. "I expect success, then," he said. "Move out."

The screen went dark, and Agnes bit back a curse, glancing down at Nahe in the captain's seat. "I guess you heard him," he said. "Get us moving."

Nahe leaned forward. "We have our orders," he said, and glanced down at the _Acidalium_'s portly helmsman. "Karl, all ahead, full! We have an appointment with Kira Yamato to make."

The _Acidalium_ lurched forward, edged out of its dock on Deimos, and arced up into space, towards Mars. Agnes leaned back against the side of the captain's chair and crossed his arms. Kira Yamato was somewhere out there—and this time, the Delta Astray would have to defeat him.

"So I'll have to fight the champion of ZAFT," he said quietly.

"It shouldn't matter so much to you," Nahe said, glancing up at him. "You're the ace of the MLA, Kira is the ace of ZAFT. You're natural rivals."

Agnes looked back out the bridge windows and narrowed his eyes at the planet. "I know," he said. "But all the stories..." He shook his head. "The visitors to the Austral Colony explained to us that Kira Yamato was a great hero in the Earth Sphere. He saved the PLANTs from being destroyed by a nuclear attack, and he protected them during the Junius War as best he could. They said he was a great man, a hero, someone who fought for the side of justice and righteousness, to protect the weak and the oppressed." He shook his head. "So I can't understand why he would come here with ZAFT to oppress Martians."

Nahe eyed him for a moment. "I'd imagine his motivations are more complicated than that," he said. "He fought with the Alliance for a while too. But nevertheless, we have our orders, and it's a chance to take out one of ZAFT's top leaders."

Agnes closed his eyes. "I know." He glanced back down at Nahe. "I'll have to play the Hector to his Achilles again, won't I?"

"Here's hoping you're a bit more successful than Hector was," Nahe said.

"Inform me when we're in range. I'll be with the Delta Astray," Agnes instructed. He cast his eyes back towards the red planet one more time. "And I'll go get those five little _gifts_ we got from Lord Djibril..."

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_**, en route to Mars**

"Captain," the sensor officer said grimly, "a heat signature is approaching from seven o'clock. Comparison with the database indicates that it is probably the _Acidalium_."

Sitting back in the captain's chair, Lyle put a hand to his chin in thought. "I figured we would be attacked," he said, "but not by them..." He glanced up at the bridge doors. "Then again, Marshal Yamato had predicted this." He took up the intercom. "Marshal, sir, this is the bridge."

"What is it?" Kira's voice answered. Lyle narrowed his eyes at the screen before him.

"The _Acidalium_'s coming up behind us on a combat bearing, sir," Lyle explained. "We expect an attack. Will you be leading the mobile suit squadron?"

"The ace of the MLA would expect nothing less," Kira answered. "I'll sortie and handle the Gundam. The rest of the pilots will deal with the Daggers, and I'll leave the _Acidalium_ itself to you."

"Understood," Lyle answered, "bridge out." He looked up. "Shield the bridge and issue Condition Red. The _Acidalium_ is a fast and well-armed ship—I expect you all to stay alert!"

—

**Martian Liberation Army destroyer **_**Acidalium**_

Sealing the helmet of his red and orange flight suit, Agnes Brahe settled into the cockpit of his familiar war horse, the Delta Astray Gundam. Toting a beam rifle, a katana, two hastily-added head-mounted CIWS guns, and a shield taken from a Civilian Astray, it was the crown jewel of the MLA's meager mobile suit force—and only it could take on the Strike Freedom Gundam.

Agnes glanced across the hangar, at the mobile suits of his wingmen, and opened a channel to the black-painted Lightning Slaughter Dagger. The thin young face of his team's second in command appeared.

"Gard," Agnes said, "you focus on the _Fortuna_'s other mobile suits and the ship itself. Leave the Strike Freedom to me." He narrowed his eyes at the red planet before him, as the _Acidalium_'s hangar doors opened. "That's our battle."

"Understood," answered Gard Dell Hokura with a grim salute. "We'll keep those Impulse units tied up, and if they launch the GOUFs, we'll handle them too."

The Delta Astray shuddered as it locked into the catapult. The pilots from Lord Djibril and the Earth Sphere, armed with the surplus of the Alliance's armies, sent here in part to reinforce Vargas's flailing forces, and in part to spy on the Martian Liberation Army and its foes...to think that Vargas would so blindly accept the help of a man like Djibril.

And, Agnes thought bitterly, to think he had sent men such as these...

"This is Agnes Brahe," he said, turning his eyes back to Mars. "Delta Astray, _launching!_"

—

"We've fought this ship before," Kira said as the Strike Freedom streaked forward, flanked by three Force Impulse units. "Frederick's DOM team is standing by to launch at a moment's notice should anybody get past you, but I'll leave the Daggers to your team, Juarez." He narrowed his eye at the approaching enemies. "I'll handle the Delta Astray."

The Freedom rocketed ahead, as Kira armed his two beam rifles. The Delta Astray, the red and white champion of the MLA, with those damnable wings of light...Kira scowled as he thought back to the last foe he had battled with wings of light. The Delta Astray would always make good practice for defeating the Destiny.

The Delta Astray opened fire with its beam rifle; inside the cockpit, Agnes ground his teeth as he watched his adversary effortlessly spiral around his shots and deploy its DRAGOONs.

"I guess you don't want to lock swords!" Agnes snapped. "We'll see if you can keep it that way! _Activating the Voiture Lumiere!_"

The Delta Astray's beam wings came to life as the red Gundam jetted around the Freedom's DRAGOON blasts, drawing its sword with its right hand and bringing it down with a crash onto the Freedom's beam shield. Kira grunted as the Freedom rattled, and hurled the Delta Astray back and fired after it with his rifles. Agnes ducked around the shots and squeezed off a volley of return shots with his own rifle.

"To think Mars has a weapon like this..." Kira growled. "Your little special effects can't fool me!"

The Freedom lined up for a full burst, showering the Delta Astray with beam fire and pummeling its shield. Agnes cursed as the Delta Astray rattled, and he took off with a trail of afterimages, lunging through another web of beam fire and deflecting a point-blank railgun blast, to bring his sword back onto the Freedom's beam shield.

"Draw your sword and fight like a man!" Agnes cried, surging forward with the full power of the Voiture Lumiere behind him. "If you really are Kira Yamato, you can fight me even like that!"

Kira's eye flashed as he rocketed into the Delta Astray's face, sending it reeling back with a kick to the face, and lined up for a killing beam rifle blow. Agnes took off before Kira could fire, showering the Freedom with rifle blasts. Kira swarmed his DRAGOONs around the Delta Astray, but once again it slipped out of its sights, streaking down and bringing its sword down a third time onto the Freedom's beam shield.

"You always make me expend more effort..." Kira grunted, holstering his rifles and drawing a beam saber in his Gundam's right hand. "Sooner or later you'll regret it!" The Freedom stabbed forward with its saber—Agnes parried the blow with his shield, leaving the two Gundams locked together, glowering into each other's eyes.

"Are you really the hero of the Earth Sphere?" Agnes snapped. "The man who saved the PLANTs and stopped the war? And you came here to oppress the people of Mars?" The Delta Astray slammed the sword into the Freedom's saber, sending it reeling back. "I don't believe that!"

The Delta Astray stabbed forward with its sword—Kira scowled and smacked the blade wide of his machine's body with his beam saber, and then brought the saber down for another blow. Agnes jammed his shield into the saber's path, before forcing the saber aside and swinging back with his sword.

The Freedom backflipped out of harm's way; the DRAGOONs swarmed, and the two Gundams charged again.

—

Juarez ground his teeth as the Lightning Slaughter Dagger before him pummeled his Force Impulse Gundam with another punishing railgun shot. A Lightning Striker railgun shot lacked the velocity to puncture his Phase Shift armor...but that was no reason to let the thing hit him.

"At the very least, you guys are good practice for the pilots on Earth!" Juarez cried, as the Impulse whirled around a second railgun shot and fired back with its beam rifle. The Dagger darted aside, letting its shield absorb most of the blow and squeezing off another railgun shot. The shell slammed into the Impulse's left shoulder, sending the Gundam reeling. "Dammit...!"

Inside the Dagger, Gard Dell Hokura bit back a smile as he watched the Gundam stagger underneath his blows. The thing was not dead yet— and until it was, he could not celebrate.

"The railgun can only knock you around," he said, switching the gun over to his left hand, "so let's fight you like this!"

The Dagger drew a beam saber with a flash and charged, and before Juarez could react, it had already stabbed through his own beam rifle and destroyed it in a blaze. Juarez desperately drew his own saber and swung it down to block Gard's second horizontal swing, leaving the two mobile suits only glowering uselessly at each other.

"I wouldn't mind a little support," Gard said, "but this will have to do!"

The Dagger surged forward with a burst from the Lightning Striker's engines, and Gard leveled off his railgun for a punishing blast. The Impulse threw its shield up to block the attack, sending it hurtling backward as smoke embraced it.

"I'll have to get rid of that cannon you're packing first," Juarez growled. "So let's see if you're as good a swordfighter as you are a marksman!"

The Impulse charged, ducking aside as the Dagger fired its railgun again, and came down with a crash to kick the gun out of the Dagger's hands. Gard immediately followed it up with a saber slash that landed hard against the Impulse's shield.

"My rifle— !" Gard started. "That's not the only gun I have!"

The Dagger surged forward again, pushing the Impulse back, and seized the beam carbine off its right leg to open fire. Juarez pulled back as the beam blasts slammed against his shield.

"At least I'm getting somewhere," he growled. "Let's go!"

—

"I never tire of fighting you ZAFT guys!" cackled Vanfeldt Ria Lindsay as his Slaughter Dagger charged in with a beam rifle barrage towards the faltering Force Impulse Gundam with Gary Talon at the controls. "You always put up a fun fight before _dying!_"

Inside the Impulse, Gary flashed a feral grin. "_Don't get too cocky!_"

The Impulse jetted forward, pounding Vanfeldt's shield with beam blasts and forcing him to break off, covering himself with a spray of beam fire from his own rifle. The Impulse's alarms wailed— Gary threw the Impulse aside as a flash of sky blue and pink came streaking out of the inky sky, and curved back up to the Sword Slaughter Dagger, which caught its beam boomerang as it charged with its Schwert Gewehr drawn.

"He only has a beam rifle and two CIWS," intoned the Dagger's pilot, Hoskin Gira Sakato; his own Dagger came down with a punishing sword slash that tore the Impulse's rifle in two. "And now he only has two CIWS. Engage him at long range."

"But it's not as fun without beam sabers!" Vanfeldt shot back, even as his Slaughter Dagger showered the Impulse with beam shots and forced it on the defensive. "Aw look, he's running away!"

Hoskin narrowed his eyes as he stowed his sword in favor of his beam carbine. "Not likely. Do not pursue."

The Impulse whirled around, deflecting beam shots with its shield as it stormed forward.

"You guys shouldn't have underestimated me!" Gary cried— the Impulse lunged up towards Vanfeldt's Dagger and brought its saber down against his shield with a crash.

"What the— hands off, buddy!" Vanfeldt shot back, sending the Impulse reeling with a punishing kick to the chest and following it up with a spray of beam blasts.

Hoskin's Dagger charged instead, sword drawn. "Pin him down and I'll finish him off!"

Gary's eyes flicked towards the charging foe. "_Like hell you will!_"

The Impulse backflipped over the Sword Dagger's killing slash, stabbing its saber down to saw the sword in two just above the hilt. Hoskin whirled around, eyes wide, and drew his beam saber just in time to block the Impulse's second strike from behind.

"Well-played," Hoskin grunted. "Vanfeldt, open fire!"

The Slaughter Dagger charged with a barrage of beam blasts, and the Impulse took off again.

—

The sky lit up with bullets as Kara pulled back in her Force Impulse unit, pummeled by a wave of Gatling bullets from the hulking IWSP Slaughter Dagger above her. "Shit, they separated me from Juarez and Gary...!"

Inside the IWSP Dagger, Waid Rabby Nadaga grinned triumphantly. "I've got him pinned, Sars! Do it!"

Up above, Sars Sehm Ellia's Launcher Slaughter Dagger leveled off its Agni cannon to open fire—

"I don't think so!" Kara cried— with a flash, the Impulse jetted backwards just as the Agni's blast flashed by, and she went back on the offensive with a wave of beam rifle shots.

"We can't pin him with just machinegun shots!" Sars exclaimed as her Launcher Dagger dodged the counterattack. "You're the one with the close-range equipment!"

"And bigass swords are the spice of life!" Waid agreed, as his Dagger drew its anti-ship swords with a flash and charged. "You're mine!"

The IWSP Dagger came down with a crash, slamming both of its swords against the Impulse's shield. And as the Impulse rattled, Kara glanced aside in disbelief as a second shot from the Launcher Dagger's Agni vaporized her beam rifle.

"Cute, but it'll take more than that!" Kara snapped, firing the Impulse's thrusters and throwing the IWSP Dagger back. With a crash, she drew her beam saber and knocked the Dagger's left-hand sword from its grasp. The Dagger brought down its right-hand sword to block the Impulse's saber—

"Now, Sars!" Waid screamed.

The Launcher Dagger lined up for a killing blow, but a moment too late— the Impulse kicked off the IWSP Dagger's Gatling shield and lunged back, letting the blast sear between itself and its foe, and charged again to slam its saber down against the Dagger's sword.

"I'll knock him back!" Sars cried, as the Launcher Dagger opened fire with a pair of missiles, slamming them into the Impulse and driving it back behind a billowing cloud of smoke.

"_And I'll take his head!_" roared Waid, charging in with his sword drawn back— only to find nothing there.

Up above, the Impulse charged down towards the Launcher Dagger instead, saber held high.

—

**Martian Liberation Army destroyer **_**Acidalium**_

Even surrounded by flashing fire and smoke outside, Nahe Hershell could not be fazed by the power of the _Fortuna_ as it swung around to meet his small crimson vessel, its fearsome Tannhäuser cannon rising from within.

"The enemy is deploying its positron cannon," the sensor officer started, shooting a worried glance towards Nahe. "Captain— "

"Pull us up over their firing arc and prepare the beam cannons!" Nahe ordered. "We'll rake over their topside in one pass!"

The _Fortuna_'s positron cannon opened fire with a blaze as the _Acidalium_ arced up over the shot, plunging towards the _Fortuna_ and opening fire with a pair of beam cannons on either side of the bridge. The blasts dissipated harmlessly against the bigger ship's thick laminated armor, and the _Fortuna_'s Isolde turned to face the charging _Acidalium— _

"Captain, the triple-gun— !" the sensor officer started.

"Karl, pull up!" Nahe barked.

The _Acidalium_ wrenched upwards just as the _Fortuna_'s Isolde let loose a trio of shells, lancing dangerously close beneath the red ship's hull.

"The enemy's beam cannons are still tracking us!" the sensor officer wailed.

"Stay calm, Amanda," replied Nahe. "Karl, Maneuver Six!"

"Yes sir!" Karl answered with a grin.

The _Acidalium_ groaned as the ship painfully twisted over the _Fortuna_, dodging a barrage from the ship's Tristan cannons and inverting over the enemy battleship's bridge. The _Acidalium_ let loose a volley of missiles, lancing down into the _Fortuna_'s CIWS field of fire as the red warship escaped to the relative safety of distance.

"Karl, bring us around on another attack pass," Nahe said. He glanced over at the weapons officer. "Maria, this time your shots are going to have to count! Flank speed!"

—

Shuddering under the punishing blow of another sword stroke from the Delta Astray, Kira paused only to move his DRAGOONs into position, opening fire and forcing the red and white Gundam back on the defensive, as Kira moved his Strike Freedom Gundam back, beam saber in hand.

"At this rate we'll be in the atmosphere," he grunted as he consulted his displays. "Are you gonna fight me even there?"

The Delta Astray pulled back its katana and charged, deflecting beam shots with its shield. "So we'll take this fight to the surface of Mars!" Agnes roared. "_I'd expect nothing less from the hero of ZAFT!_"

The Freedom leveled off its railguns and fired— Agnes plowed through the shots with his shield and brought his katana down with a flash...only to find the Freedom gone. He snapped his attention up above, finding the Strike Freedom leveling off its guns for a killing blow.

"_Even this!_" Kira cried, pouring firepower after the Delta Astray as its Voiture Lumiere wings flashed around the battlefield. "So fast...!"

"With all of the times we've crossed swords," Agnes snarled, as the Delta Astray charged again and slammed its katana down onto the Freedom's saber, "I'd think you would have learned by now...!"

The Strike Freedom surged forward— the Delta Astray somersaulted over it, whirling around to strike at its foe's exposed back, only to find Kira there to block the blow with his saber once more.

"_Do not underestimate my Delta Astray!_"

The red and white Gundam's eyes flashed banefully, and with a flash, the Delta Astray's beam wings expanded outward as the Gundam darted through the Freedom's DRAGOON fire, leaving a trail of afterimages in its wake.

"Even the afterimages," Kira growled, clawing for distance as the Delta Astray effortlessly danced around his Newtype weapons. "Too bad the only thing you lack is the same pilot!"

The Delta Astray came storming in close, only to see its killing katana slash spoiled by the Freedom's beam saber. Kira swarmed his DRAGOONs again, forcing the Delta Astray back on the defensive, and turned towards Mars.

"I can survive atmospheric reentry," Kira grunted. "Let's see if the same can be said of you!"

—

"Without a beam rifle, you have to engage us both at close range!" cackled Waid as his IWSP Dagger pummeled the rifle-less Force Impulse Gundam with cannon fire. "_And I'd sure as hell like to see you try!_"

Inside the Impulse, Kara scowled through the smoke as she saw the Launcher Dagger line up for a killing blow. "I'm not dying yet— !"

The Impulse furiously drew its left-hand combat knife and hurled it up towards the Launcher Dagger, plunging it into the Agni cannon's barrel and blowing the cannon apart. Sars yelped in surprise as her mobile suit rocked and lost its left arm in the blast.

"What the— !"

"I'm not a ZAFT Red for nothing, you bastards!" Kara screamed, as the Impulse charged in with its saber pulled back.

"An _anti-armor knife?_" Waid exclaimed. "Sars— !"

He never finished, as the Impulse lunged up and sawed off the Launcher Dagger's right arm with a punishing saber slash. Waid opened fire to knock the Impulse aside before it could finish Sars off.

"Sars, get out of here!" Waid shouted. "Dammit, you're gonna regret that!"

Kara turned her eyes towards the IWSP Dagger, as its wounded compatriot limped away. "Let's dance!" she cackled, a gleam in her eye. The Dagger charged, sword upraised, and pounded the Impulse with cannon fire as it closed in. An instant later, the Impulse lanced through the smoke with its saber to stop the Dagger's sword blow, leaving the two mobile suits glowering menacingly at each other.

"I gotta say, you're doing better than I thought," Waid began. "_But I'm still better!_"

The Dagger flung the Impulse away with its sword, seizing its beam boomerang and hurling it after the reeling Gundam. Kara scowled and batted the boomerang aside with her beam saber, charging in and slamming her saber down onto the Dagger's sword again. The Dagger swung its shield up to open fire— Kara kicked it skyward and then seized her chance to smash the Dagger in the side with a devastating roundhouse kick.

"How easy do you think it is to kill a FAITH pilot?" Kara shot back. The Dagger opened fire with its cannons— the Impulse ducked around the shells and took off, saber in hand.

—

Streaking across space and surrounded by beam fire, Gary scowled back at his two black-painted adversaries as they poured blasts after him. The Sword Dagger sent its beam boomerang whirling down towards him— the Impulse wheeled around to bat it aside with its saber. That was all the time the Sword Dagger needed— the Impulse shuddered as Hoskin clamped his Panzer Eisen anchor down onto the Impulse's arm. Gary's eyes widened in disbelief as the Sword Dagger came flying towards him, beam saber held forward for a killing stab—

"Oh, _like hell you will!_" Gary roared— the Impulse swung its arm down, yanking the Dagger wide of its target and slashing its right arm and head off as it passed by.

Hoskin grunted as his wounded Dagger rocked. "Well-played! Vanfeldt, finish him off!"

Inside his charging Slaughter Dagger, Vanfeldt sneered. "Fine, go pussy out!" The Dagger opened fire again. "I'll just have all the fun of bringing back this guy's head on a pike!"

The Dagger came streaking down with a beam rifle blast— the Impulse ducked around the blasts and charged back, stabbing through the Dagger's rifle with its beam saber and whirling around to face its foe. Vanfeldt scowled and turned with a beam saber in hand, deflecting the Impulse's killing stroke.

"That wasn't smart of you!" he snapped. "Now let's see how good you are with a saber!"

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_

Lyle tensed as the _Acidalium_ came swinging in for another pass. That obnoxious ship had no weapon, it seemed, that could punch through the _Fortuna_'s laminated armor— but that was no reason to let it try.

"Enemy ship is closing into attack range," the sensor officer reported.

Lyle frowned. "That ship has the edge of maneuverability over us," he said. "Helm, Helix Maneuver. We'll show them just how maneuverable we can be."

The _Acidalium_ came streaking in, beam cannons and missile launchers blazing. The _Fortuna_ plunged ahead, cutting down the missiles with its own CIWS and letting the _Acidalium_ shoot by overhead—

"Helm, ascend!"

The _Fortuna_ groaned as it wheeled up, twisting into a helix and showering the _Acidalium_ with beam fire and missiles. A flash of fire lit up on the ship's starboard side— Lyle smirked as he watched the _Acidalium_ lose one of its engines.

"Two hits confirmed! Enemy has ejected its starboard engine!" the sensor officer cried.

Lyle's next words disappeared in his throat as the sky lit up with the flashes of attack flares. He studied the pattern in surprise for a moment.

"A retreat signal...?" the XO began. "Captain— "

"Let them go," Lyle intoned. "Marshal Yamato has descended to the planetary surface. Prepare for reentry."

—

**Tharsis Montes volcano range, Tharsis Bulge, Mars**

The vast, sprawling surface of Mars filled the Strike Freedom's cockpit screens as the mighty Gundam deactivated its beam shields and went cruising in towards the ground. The rust-red sands and craggy mountains were nothing new to Kira— instead, he noted that he was nearing a neutral Martian geothermal plant, centered around the three menacing volcanoes of the Tharsis Montes range.

And, as Kira checked his rear scope, the Delta Astray was still on his tail.

"I don't want to fight through the geothermal plant," he muttered, "but if that's what it takes to get rid of you..."

The Delta Astray opened fire, forcing the Freedom to dodge and fire back with its beam rifles. It switched to a saber as the Delta Astray came charging in, sword drawn back, and slammed it down onto its foe's outstretched beam saber.

"Trying to escape into the volcanoes, huh?" Agnes snarled. "Is that any way for the champion of ZAFT to fight?"

He glanced to the side as his auxiliary screen flickered to life, with Nahe's irritated face in the center.

"Agnes! What the hell are you doing on the surface?" he cried.

Agnes threw the Delta Astray back behind its shield as the Freedom flung it backward. "I pursued the Freedom down here. Why?"

"Well, get to friendly territory. The _Acidalium_ took some heavy hits. We'll have to rendezvous elsewhere," Nahe answered. Agnes blinked in disbelief.

"You mean you can't reenter?" The Delta Astray ducked aside from another attack.

"Try to get to Valles Marineris," Nahe instructed. "You can follow the canyons to Eos Chasma, and they can get you back to orbit."

Agnes glared up at the oncoming Freedom. "Another battle cut short...!"

The Delta Astray jetted backward, fired a combat flare into its winged foe's face, and whirled around towards the vast black chasm of the gaping Valles Marineris rift to take off with a flash.

Inside the Freedom, Kira squinted in frustration as he watched his foe escape, and backed away as the lights continued to flicker in his face.

"Marshal!" Lyle's voice broke through his cockpit. "Are you alright? Where did the Delta Astray go?"

Kira glanced up into the sky, finding the _Fortuna_ slowly descending high above.

_ Delta Astray...I'm sure you'll be back._

—

**Martian Liberation Army **_**Izumo**_**-class battleship **_**Elysium**_**, orbit of Mars**

"Another draw for the Hero of Mars and the Ultimate Coordinator," chuckled Omega Suzuki as he stood on the bridge of the _Elysium_, gazing down at the planet below and the _Acidalium_ smoldering in orbit. "I'm sure Vargas won't be pleased."

Howard shifted uncomfortably in the captain's chair. "_Acidalium_ is setting course for the Arm of God orbital elevator. What will we be doing, sir?"

Omega paused for a moment, regarding the planet. "Take us in over Amazonis Planitia. The levitator should be more than adequate. We'll take a crack at the _Fortuna_ as they're leaving Olympus Mons." He chuckled again in spite of himself. "We're going to have quite a time against them. I hope the other pilots are up for this."

"With just your Murasame? You're going to take on Yamato?" Howard asked, blinking in surprise.

"I have a few cards in my favor," Omega said with a shrug, "and it's been tuned up enough. Besides, the Technical Division still hasn't finished that Astray Mars Jacket yet, and since Mr. Brahe down there won't share the wealth of his Voiture Lumiere drive, I'll just have to make do." He turned to leave. "Have us in Amazonis Planitia and in combat position within five hours. I'll be squeezing a few more drops of performance out of my Murasame." He grinned back at the image of Mars before him. "Marshal Yamato is still a human being, after all."

—

**ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah, orbit of Mars**

The sprawling main control room of Messiah featured a single chair with a desk in its center, before a titanic window out into space beyond. And before that window stood the woman around whom this army revolved— the savior, the leader.

Valentine Sunogachi regarded the image before her. Her fleet was growing— in orbit already, she could see the empty hulls of warships yet to be fully constructed, patrolled and defended by their completed and crewed compatriots. Her army was growing, and its ranks would be buttressed by conscripts from these Martian colonies once this war was over. Mars would always be her stronghold; she could always return here and find a position of strength...although she could not deny that a major step in securing that foothold lay in destroying Emmanuel Vargas first.

She turned at the feeling of an approaching human presence, and faced her ZAFT Black-Shirt-clad adjutant with a gleaming FAITH emblem on his chest. Orville Raclyffe dutifully saluted as he caught the eye of his leader.

"Commander Ehrmacht's special team is assembled as per your request, ma'am," he intoned. Valentine glanced back out the window, where the hull of an _Eternal_-class cruiser was taking shape. "Their mothership has not yet been finished, so in the meantime they will be stationed aboard the _Nazca_-class destroyer _Herschel._ Commander Ehrmacht estimates that the mission will take a week to complete, at the least."

Even through the icy military formality, Valentine could detect her adjutant's distaste for the commander in question— she knew that Commander Ehrmacht's intimate relationship with his own second-in-command was something of a sore spot, but that had not deterred Valentine from promoting them both to FAITH. It helped to have powerful swords at one's disposal, and in the grand equation, she could not really bring herself to disapprove of a romantic relationship with a subordinate anyway. Irony of ironies.

"Marshal Yamato should return soon from Olympus Mons," she said, casting her eyes towards the dark bulge on the surface of Mars, where her knight was meeting with her fitful ally. "I can think of no brushfires he would intervene in after meeting with Schroeder." She glanced back at Raclyffe. "What about the Nova II siege?"

"Admiral Harkill reports that his forces and the ZMA troops are advancing inch by inch, but he believes that Nova II will be a hallway-by-hallway battle."

So much killing. Surely that would be fun. Valentine turned her eyes back towards Mars.

"And the Goliath?"

Raclyffe shifted imperceptibly. "Forty-eight percent complete, with twenty-nine of one hundred ZAKU Drones assembled and the Nightshade at thirty-seven percent. We're well on schedule, ma'am."

Valentine smiled herself. _Just a little longer, Kira,_ she thought, _and we will be king and queen._

—

**Olympus Mons Colony, Tharsis Bulge, Mars**

"Marshal Yamato, on behalf of the entire Zodiac Martian Alliance, welcome to Olympus Mons!"

Kira reached into his memory of state functions to force a smile as he shook the hand of the miserly Wilhelm Schroeder, the mustachioed man with a glimmering mane of blond hair and the grin of a con artist. Indeed, Kira could sense at his side Kayla shifting uncomfortably at this detestable figure— and looking nervously at the preponderance of armed guards in the conference room.

"It's good to be in a setting where people aren't shooting at me," Kira said, as the two men took their seats. "I trust the siege at Alba Patera is going well?"

"Every so often a missile comes down near us," Schroeder said with a shrug, "but Alba Patera will surrender yet. The rats have no escape."

"Yes, well, on that note," Kira started, sitting back and fixing the President with the chilling gaze of his red mechanical eye, "I must admit to some concerns as to how you're going to treat those 'rats' when they do surrender. I just got back from the battle at Event Horizon. Your men were beating the colony's surrendered leaders. I've told you countless times to obey the Corsica Treaty's provisions when it comes to prisoners."

"Marshal," Schroeder said with a nervous chuckle, "with all due respect, nobody at Mars has signed the Corsica Treaty— "

"That makes no difference to me," Kira interrupted, flashing an annoyed glare. "Vargas has an entire hive of propagandists who take those images and turn them into recruiting drives in the MLA's colonies. We don't need that. We can't convince enemy colonies to surrender peacefully if they've got those images in their heads."

"But Marshal, we're fighting a war," Schroeder protested, the nervous smile fading. "Political animosities run deep, and many of the ZMA's soldiers know friends and relatives who lost their lives due to MLA violence, and— "

"I didn't come here for excuses, President Schroeder," said Kira. "I expect my own men to comply with the provisions of the Corsica Treaty. I expect yours to do the same. I'm losing my patience for this sort of thing. Should you fail to do so, you may find our alliance in worse shape than it was before Event Horizon fell."

Schroeder blinked unhappily for a moment. "Is this a threat, Marshal?"

"It's a choice."

"Marshal, you must understand the bind I am in. It's so difficult to enforce a decision like this— "

"I don't seem to have a problem with it," Kira said. "If you can't do it on charisma, do it through military law. Either way, do it. We can't bring Mars back to its prewar industrial strength with these incidents in the public memory. We'll have a hard enough time of it as it is."

Schroeder paused for a moment, and Kira sensed him mustering up his courage. "Marshal, with all due respect, why are you fighting this war so...cleanly?" Kira arched an eyebrow. "Your concern with a low casualty count and as little damage to Martian industrial capacity as possible is...strange. This is a war, Marshal, and we must win it by destroying the enemy's ability to wage it. Why are you...why are you holding back, Marshal?"

The answer, of course, was that Mars was intended by Valentine to become the new Coordinator homeland during its war on the Earth Alliance. But it would not do well to tell Schroeder that. "You will have to take that up with Marshal Sunogachi," Kira said. "I came here for one thing, Schroeder, and so far I'm not getting it. Are you, or are you not going to strictly enforce the Corsica Treaty's provisions among your soldiers?"

Schroeder swallowed hard for a moment. "Of course we will, Marshal."

Kira smiled. "You're a wonderful human being, President Schroeder."

—

The east wing of Olympus Mons' sprawling Presidential Palace was where Kara Guinness stood, leaning tiredly against one of the ornate marble pillars that interrupted the otherwise sweeping view from one of the palace's many gaping balconies, looking out over the panoramic vista of the colony— and, through the massive transparent dome overhead, over the dead mountains and plains of Mars, from the towering vantage point of Olympus Mons.

Kara barely restrained the urge to spit on the floor. "I've had enough of those stupid ZMA dicks trying to get me in bed." She glanced up at Juarez, as he stood with arms crossed, impassively taking in the view of Mars. "Did you see what they were doing in that bar? Officers, all of them, and they were just about taking turns groping me!"

"You wanted a malt liquor that badly," Juarez said with a shrug. "Either way, killing an officer of the army that's technically on our side would've caused a major diplomatic incident. And the Marshal has enough of those on his hands."

Kara sneered. "And where's Gary?"

Juarez paused to bury his face in his hand. "He stayed behind to 'take in the atmosphere,' as he put it."

"Oh, so he's off boning those female petty officers that were fawning over him when we left," Kara snorted. "Just because he's a Martian..."

"What, you jealous?" Juarez asked with a cheeky grin. Kara kicked him in the side of the leg in annoyance.

"Of course not! If I want a man, I can do a lot better than him." She glanced to the side irritably. "I hate this place. I hate Mars. I hate waiting out here and fighting all these vermin Naturals like this. How much longer will it take until we get to go back to the Earth Sphere and fight the people we _should_ be fighting?"

Juarez's smile vanished. "I wouldn't mind staying, actually," he said quietly. "There's no Blue Cosmos here."

Kara's eyes flashed in anger. "When we get done with the Earth," she said darkly, "there won't be a Blue Cosmos there either."

—

**Noctis Labyrinthus, Valles Marineris, Mars**

The gaping Valles Marineris rift system was one of Mars's most prominent features, the largest such canyon in the solar system. The four thousand-kilometer-long fissure in the Martian surface was home to a number of small outposts and a handful of larger colonies, but the difficult terrain made it unfeasible for wide-scale settlement...so instead, it was a battleground, the dividing line between ZMA and MLA territory on the planet. The canyon itself was a no man's land, littered with wrecked mobile suits and weapons, and patrolled heavily in some parts by the opposing armies.

The Noctis Labyrinthus, on the other hand, was undoubtedly ZMA territory...and a ZMA training course, at that. And that made it fairly dangerous to most pilots. But Agnes Brahe was no ordinary pilot, and the Delta Astray Gundam was no ordinary mobile suit.

Inside his red and white war horse, Agnes eyed the approaching enemies carefully. A squadron of ZMA GINNs, with a CGUE at their head, flying on their own power in the reduced Martian gravity. Clearly they were on patrol...but a handful of grunts could not stop the power of the Voiture Lumiere.

Even as his Gundam plunged into battle and dodged a wave of machinegun rounds, Agnes thought bitterly back to the battle he had just escaped. Kira Yamato, the hero of the PLANTs...was he really here to do evil?

The Delta Astray put its sword through the center of a GINN as it broke formation, its own sword in hand, and whirled around to saw in two a second GINN as it came up from behind. The remaining ten GINNs backed away with bursts of machinegun fire, as their CGUE commander pelted the Delta Astray with Vulcan fire. The Delta Astray effortlessly dodged their shots, firing back with its beam rifle and picking a third GINN out of the sky with a burst of fire.

"You're just small change," Agnes growled, dancing around the shells and bringing his sword down through a fourth GINN's waist. The fifth came streaking in from behind, sword upraised— Agnes twirled his katana around to stab it directly into the GINN's cockpit, and hurled the wounded mobile suit at its compatriots, claiming a sixth GINN in the blast.

It seemed natural, he supposed, that he should be the rival of Kira Yamato. The Hero of Mars had to fight for his people, but how could that hero fight when he felt such doubt?

The Delta Astray cut down a seventh and eighth GINN with a volley of beam rifle blasts, before charging in close to cut down the ninth, even as the CGUE desperately pursued. The remaining three GINNs backed away in horror, only to watch Agnes cut down the tenth with a beam rifle shot. The last two GINNs lined up for a killing shot, as their commander drew its sword—

The Delta Astray darted between them, its beam wings flashing to life and sawing both GINNs in two. And as the CGUE brought its sword to bear, Agnes slapped the blade aside with his shield and impaled his silver foe on the Delta Astray's katana.

"Is this what you wanted to bring to Mars, Kira Yamato?"

As the gutted CGUE collapsed towards the canyon floor to explode, the Delta Astray sheathed its katana and turned to take off into the black maze.

—

After two hours of agonizing talks that primarily focused on strategy, Kira Yamato was once again certain. He hated Wilhelm Schroeder.

Now the Vice Marshal of ZAFT stood on an adjoining balcony outside the guest quarters, where Schroeder had "generously offered to allow his esteemed guests to lodge for the night," and he could only glare out over the nighttime landscape of Mars and the massive sentinel of Olympus Mons. He could sense Kayla approaching, and glanced over at her perfunctorily as she emerged onto the balcony.

"Um, Marshal, sir, President Schroeder's aide asked me to give you the latest charts on Alba Patera— " she began, trailing off as she noticed Kira's tired mien.

"So, do you detest President Schroeder as much as I do?" he asked quietly, as Kayla came near. She blinked in surprise, and Kira could sense her fumbling for an answer. "Be honest. I certainly made no secret of it. Did you not like his cologne or something? I sure didn't. Smelled like vinegar."

Kayla glanced aside with a blush that even Kira could see in the low light. "I'm sure he'll do as you asked, marshal," she began.

Kira sighed in disappointment. "We'll see," he said. "I think it helped that I made no bones about how I felt about it. He's kinda dumb, but he can pick up on hints when you make them obvious enough." He sighed again. "Did you check my messages?"

"Yes sir," she answered. "Nothing new since 1500 hours."

Silence reigned for a moment, as Kira regarded Kayla's flickering presence. "Do you have friends on Messiah?"

Kayla blinked in surprise again, before nodding slowly. "Y-Yes sir..."

"Then I'll give you the day off when we get back," he said, with a helpful smile. Kayla's eyes went wide.

"Sir? I— you mean—?"

"We've been hopping from battlefield to battlefield since August," Kira went on, "and I know the feeling. There's someone on Messiah I'd like to see as well." He looked back at his dutiful and surprised assistant. "And as long as we're out here, we should cherish what we've still got." He closed his eyes pensively. "This war will end soon, but Vargas won't go down without a fight. So take the time you have. We're gonna have a lot of fighting to do."

"Yes sir."

Kira looked up towards the sky, where Messiah was serenely drifting in space, somewhere up there.

_ Don't get too lonely up there without me, Valentine._

—

**November 16th, CE 76 - ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_**, Amazonis Planitia, Mars**

"Course has been set for orbit, sir," Lyle said from the captain's chair, looking up at Vice Marshal Yamato as he sat back in the observer's chair next to the sensor console. "We can accelerate to escape velocity on our own power over Amazonis Planitia and return to orbit. We should be back at Messiah in about twenty hours."

Kira sat back, satisfied. "Barring any unforeseen obstacles, of course," he added.

"Of course," Lyle agreed with a smile. "_Fortuna_, engines— "

"Sir, we have something!" the sensor officer interrupted frantically. "A heat signature matching an _Izumo_-class battleship, coming in from eleven o'clock!"

Lyle looked up in disbelief. "Put it on camera!"

Even before the image materialized, Kira narrowed his eyes as the familiar pressure appeared, and the face to match it showed itself.

"Is that the _Elysium_...?" the communications officer started.

Kira stood up, fists clenched.

"So our friend Suzuki is back," he growled. "Lyle, scramble the mobile suits. I'll be going out as well."

"Yes sir! Condition Red is issued! Shield the bridge!" Lyle cried, as Kira went sailing out the bridge doors and heading for the hangar.

Kira ground his teeth as the pressure throbbed in the back of his mind. Omega Suzuki, the masked ace of the Martian Liberation Army, was no doubt spoiling for a fight.

_ So you came hunting me after all, Unit Zero-Three..._

—

To be continued...


	3. Phase 03: Suffering Servants

Mobile Suit Gundam SEED DESTINY - Red Planet

—

Phase 03 - Suffering Servants

—

**November 16th, CE 76 - Amazonis Planitia, Mars**

The black and silver Murasame sliced over the rusty Martian landscape, wings extended in mobile armor mode. Inside the cockpit, sans flight suit, sat Omega Suzuki; arms crossed, one leg draped over the other, watching grimly as the _Fortuna_ far up ahead began launching mobile suits. One of those machines pricked his consciousness with a familiar sting, and he saw the blue flash of the Strike Freedom leaping out into the fight.

"There you are, Kira Yamato," growled Omega. He took the controls, arcing the Murasame up into the air. "I owe you a favor, Kira. You and that whore of yours. I hope you haven't forgotten."

The Murasame transformed into its mobile suit mode, its eyes flashed, and it darted forward towards the _Fortuna_.

—

"Why the hell are we only fighting a static defense?" muttered Gary as his Blast Impulse set down onto the sands of Mars. Juarez's own Blast Impulse landed next to him, followed by a team of bone-white DOM Troopers. Kara's Force Impulse hovered above them with a second team of DOMs, all of them turned towards the approaching _Elysium_.

"This was the marshal's plan," Kara shot back. "We stay here and let the mobile suits come to us."

"Enough you two," interrupted Juarez. "Frederick, you join Kara and her team on the counterattack. We'll handle whatever gets through."

In his ZAFT Red flight suit, Frederick Lane looked positively thrilled. "Yes sir. Under Commander Guinness' command."

Juarez's eyes flicked back towards the battlefield, where the approaching mobile suits—all of them Murasames, of course—began launching missiles. "Incoming. Kara, get moving."

Kara's Force Impulse rocketed forward, spiraling gracefully over the missiles while the five DOMs following her ducked beneath them. The two Blast Impulses and the remaining four DOMs opened fire with their CIWS, cutting the incoming missiles out of the sky, as the battle began once more.

—

Crashing together and showering Mars with sparks, the black Murasame and the Strike Freedom clashed with beam sabers and furious beam blasts, fencing their way over the dusty Martian surface. The Murasame brought its saber down with a crashing overhead swing, blocked just in time by the Freedom's own blade. The Murasame surged forward, pelting the Freedom's armor with CIWS bullets.

"You have a lot of nerve to act like you haven't done anything wrong, Mr. Hero!" snarled Omega. The Murasame stabbed forward with its saber, forcing the Freedom to jet aside. Kira raised his saber to swipe at the Murasame's exposed arm—but an instant later, the black mobile suit backflipped over his saber blade, whirled around, and smashed the Freedom in the face with a scything kick. "To act like you aren't at fault!"

Kira clenched his teeth, jetting backwards and slamming his Gundam down onto the dust. "You _know_ we did everything to help you...!"

"_Help_ me?" The Murasame charged again, forcing the Freedom back, and went rocketing after its white-armored adversary with a series of furious saber swipes. "After all the therapies and experiments and tests, you want to tell me that you tried to _help_ me?" The Murasame brought its saber down again, sparks flying against the Freedom's blade. "_That_ is a _laugh!_"

Kira narrowed his eyes as the Murasame whirled around him, and he swung around to deflect another saber swing. Omega Suzuki had, in truth, never been meant to survive this long. He was a mistake—a mistake that would need correcting.

—

**Martian Liberation Army **_**Izumo**_**-class battleship **_**Elysium**_

He pushed himself too hard.

That was Howard's assessment, as usual, as he watched the black Murasame do battle with its mighty foe. Colonel Suzuki always pushed himself too hard, and this fight would probably tax him enough to force a retreat sooner or later.

Howard glanced ahead at the _Fortuna_, which was holding steady above the battlefield, as though awaiting orders. The mobile suits would have to duke it out first, he surmised, before the ships made any moves. The _Elysium_ had the firepower to take on the _Fortuna_, but not the speed, and there was always the threat that the modular _Izumo_-class might start losing pieces from a well-placed hit.

Nevertheless, Colonel Suzuki was one of the few things the MLA still had going for it in this horrible war. He was an undeniably talented mobile suit pilot and a keen tactician, and with the Coordinators of the Austral Colony so uncooperative, withholding their brilliant Voiture Lumiere technology, the MLA had to take what blessings it could get.

And through it all, with a fleet of surplus ships and weapons from the Earth Sphere, Howard could not shake the feeling that they were just pawns on a chessboard, moved by a faraway hand.

—

Missiles exploded around the Blast Impulse as the Murasames raked the ZAFT line with another hail of firepower. Inside the Impulse, Juarez ground his teeth. The other mobile suits were holding up well enough, and Kara's unit had moved ahead, but the Murasames had the advantage of speed.

One of the Murasames swept down, beam cannon blazing towards the Impulse. Juarez narrowed his eyes, letting it approach until the moment when his instinct screamed—and then the Impulse vaulted into the air, somersaulted, and blasted the attacker out of the air with a sizzling beam cannon blast.

The Impulse landed with a crash, where Gary's Blast Impulse allowed it an impressed nod.

"Not bad," he grunted. "Show-off."

Juarez flicked his eyes towards the remaining attackers. "Stay sharp. We can shoot down a couple more like this."

—

Beam sabers clashing and sparks flying, the Strike Freedom and Murasame pounded each others blades in a furious swordfight over the Martian sands. Kira searched anxiously for an opening—even under Mars' gravity, he couldn't reliably maneuver the DRAGOONs, and deploying them just to get them shot down was a waste.

"You're holding back!" cried Omega, the Murasame charging forward with a saber stab. Kira narrowed his eyes, angling the Freedom's railguns towards the ground and firing. A column of sand and dust billowed up in front of the attacking Murasame—giving Kira the chance he needed to somersault over the black mobile suit's head. He whirled around, saber ready for a killing blow—only for the Murasame to lunge out of the dust and stop his swing with expert precision.

Kira ground his teeth. "Another problem for me to tie up, huh," he grunted; a moment later, he fired the Freedom's thrusters and surged his machine forward, throwing the Murasame back. It floundered for a moment—before a bone-jarring crash rang out as the Freedom rammed its jet-black opponent with its shoulder.

Omega screamed in pain in the Murasame's cockpit, and a trickle of blood slid from the corner of his mouth. He tore off his mask—

At the sight of his enemy's bloody, pulsing face, Kira grimaced. The wounds were as bad as ever, and the flashing eyes burned in pain and fury.

"You did this to me, Kira Yamato!" he snarled. "You wanted a Newtype, but you weren't willing to use yourself, so _you made me!_"

The Murasame faltered for a moment, then transformed and rocketed into the sky, dropping a constellation of combat flares behind it.

Kira stared after his retreating foe, wondering if this really was his fault.

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_

And so ended another abortive battle with the Martian Liberation Army. On the _Fortuna_'s bridge, Lyle cast a heavy sigh. The Martian Civil War was marked by these short, unimpressive skirmishes. There were few professional soldiers at Mars, and almost all of them were to be found in ZAFT. The rest were colonists and miners, converted into ad hoc military forces to provide bite for the threats of their political leaders; and the majority of them were Naturals, unskilled, unruly, unsuitable. It was all so degrading to treat this charade like war. Even the Earth Alliance, with its superior training and weaponry, made for a more formidable opponent than this Martian rabble.

He itched for a real battle, but the best of the MLA were not to be found in these minor skirmishes. Only during the planned final assault on Deimos, he suspected, would he get anything close to a real war.

"The mobile suits are returning, sir," reported Grigori from the mobile suit deck console. Lyle sat back, watching disappointedly as his ship's mobile suit complement returned—including the splendid Strike Freedom.

Yes, the Vice Marshal deserved a better fight than this as well. Everyone in ZAFT deserved better. Disgraceful as these soldiers were, they were not ZAFT's real enemy. They were not the ones who had shot the PLANTs out of the sky.

And ultimately, to the Coordinators and their avenging sword of ZAFT, they had nothing to answer for.

—

"Welcome back, sir," Kayla said with a smile as Kira alighted on the _Fortuna_'s hangar gantry. "The ship is unscathed and our mobile suits are safely aboard."

"Then we can go back to Messiah," answered Kira, heading off deeper into the ship with Kayla in tow. "When we return, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Sir?"

"Access the Messiah main computer, on my credentials, and find me whatever information you can on Unit Zero-Three." Kira narrowed his eye. "I have to know how much longer it's going to be a problem."

"I understand, sir," Kayla replied, "but he ran off so quickly..."

Kira frowned. The battle had not lasted long; Suzuki had overexerted; sooner or later he would go too far and give Kira the opportunity he needed to finish off the twisted remnants of an experiment gone wrong.

"Well, we have bigger concerns anyway," Kira went on. "Have you heard from Messiah about Operation _Jack of Diamonds?_"

"No sir, we're not allowed to discuss it over long-distance channels."

Kira mentally smacked his forehead. ZAFT and the ZMA had so many schemes in motion that he couldn't keep track of them all. Being a commander was really not his forte.

And yet this one was, by the Martian Civil War's measure, a mind-boggling endeavor. It was no less than the conquest of the Austral Colony, the mightiest fortified location on the Martian surface, and ZAFT was committing twenty warships and almost two hundred mobile suits to the operation. The Austral Colony consistently turned out the MLA's best soldiers and equipment; take it and Vargas's days would be numbered. Or so the officers had told him. Schroeder was eager to add the Austral Colony to his list of conquests, and—if the intelligence was correct—it was the home base of the _Acidalium_ and its Delta Astray.

Which, of course, meant another battle with the Hero of Mars.

—

The report was filed and the mechanics had no need for him, so for Gary Talon, there arrived one of those feelings that covered most of a soldier's time—abject boredom.

It was hardly what he had expected when he signed up for ZAFT—and ZAFT, not the ZMA—and graduated from the cramped new military academy on Messiah. The life of a soldier was one of boredom, punctuated by the occasional rush of battle. For other soldiers it might be a nerve-wracking dance with the shadow of death, but not for Gary Talon. He was too good, he assured himself, to get shot down by mere MLA rabble.

That itself added to the boredom. He knew the Earth Alliance would put up a stronger fight than this in the Earth Sphere, but he could hardly wait to see it for himself. The MLA was not a challenge. They were miners and engineers, not soldiers, and only the sons and daughters of the Austral Colony offered a real fight.

He ran a hand through his hair and alighted on the _Fortuna_'s hangar gantry, scanning the hangar with a sweeping gaze. His disassembled Impulse unit lay off to the starboard side, where the mechanics were running stress tests on its various connectors. At least he didn't have to put the thing together in midair while under fire, like the original pilot had to do.

Not that he couldn't do it, of course. There was much that Gary Talon could do—if only he had a chance to prove it.

—

**Martian Liberation Army destroyer **_**Acidalium**_**, orbit of Mars**

"We're lucky we just lost an engine block," said Nahe, his voice filling the Delta Astray's cockpit as Agnes guided it into the _Acidalium_'s hangar. "But I really don't see why you had to go down to the surface."

Agnes pursed his lips. "I'll fight Yamato how I choose, Nahe."  
On the cockpit screen, Nahe waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, well, don't forget about us," he added. "Once you're aboard we'll head for the Arm of God. They can deliver a new engine block there and we can get repaired. Fortunately that's the only critical thing we need done."

"And Djibril's men?"

"All back aboard, although their machines were roughed up."

Agnes sat back and let out a sigh. His poor ship was still smoking from the loss of its starboard engine, but there had been no deaths among the crew and only a handful of wounded, so all in all the skirmish had not been a total disaster.

He narrowed his eyes at the baneful memories of his gleaming foe. It had just been a _mitigated_ disaster.

Every draw was a defeat as far as he was concerned. He knew that draws defaulted to ZAFT in this war, because ZAFT and the ZMA together had the resources to outlast the MLA. Meanwhile, Agnes could only watch as the army he reluctantly fought in was whittled down, while Vargas poured ever more resources into that damned Beelzebub Array of his. "It will change the course of this war," he had said; Agnes would believe that if he saw it. And in the meantime, every draw he forced and every defeat he suffered from Kira Yamato only served to push the inevitable back, by an ever-decreasing amount of time. There was never enough time, and for all his Delta Astray's power, he could not buy enough of it to save the war for Mars.

The Delta Astray settled into its berth and the _Acidalium_'s hangar doors began to ponderously shut. Agnes closed his eyes as his faithful war mount came to a rest, imagining the gleaming Strike Freedom and wondering when he would fight it again.

—

**November 17th, CE 76 - Martian Liberation Army **_**Izumo **_**-class battleship **_**Elysium**_**, orbit of Mars**

The writhing mass of hideous scars on the infirmary bed painfully cracked open a bleary, unfocused eye, and at the sight of his broken, gasping superior, Commander Howard could only sigh. Such were the hopes of the Martian Liberation Army in this war.

"You overtaxed yourself again, sir," Howard began, trying to strike the balance between speaking discreetly over his commander's ragged breaths. "I would suggest that you accept the medicine that Major Thomas's department offered you."

Omega squeezed his eye shut and groaned. "It will give me a few weeks of normalcy," he grunted, "and then kill me. How do you know the war won't be over by then?"

Howard frowned. "How could it possibly go on longer?" He glanced around nervously. "Sir, Deimos' defenses are falling at an alarming rate, and there is disturbing activity around the Austral Colony. ZAFT and the ZMA are preparing their endgame strike, and we are on the defensive everywhere. This war cannot possibly last longer than another month—and when the drugs wear off you aren't _guaranteed_ to die."

Omega snorted in disgust. "Almost a reason to turn it down itself," he snarled. "Look at me, commander. Are you saying I should survive worse than this?"

"If the war is lost, sir," answered Howard, "you will never have an opportunity for revenge."

At that, Omega was contemplatively silent for a moment, only the sound of his hoarse breathing filling the infirmary. "I will require another mobile suit, if I'm to do anything like gaining vengeance," he replied. "That Astray Mars Jacket. I will need it." He looked up again at Howard, and the dour commander felt a chill rush down his spine. "Set course for Ceti XIII. We have an appointment with Major Thomas."

—

**Martian Liberation Army Headquarters, Deimos**

Charitum Montes.

It was just south of the massive Argyre Basin on the surface of Mars, and this rugged, ruthless mountain chain was the site of the mighty Austral Colony. It was undoubtedly the largest and most powerful of the two dozen or so surface colonies on Mars' rusty landscape, and that made it a target in this war.

Fortunately, it was well-defended, with not only craggy mountain terrain but a powerful mobile suit garrison and heavy fortifications. And that, mused Emmanuel Vargas in his office on Deimos, would have to make the difference—because sooner or later, and most likely sooner, ZAFT would attack the Austral Colony.

Vargas thought back to his perennial rogue officer, Agnes Brahe. The hotheaded young Coordinator made no secret of his disdain for Vargas and the MLA, but the Delta Astray could not take on ZAFT all by itself. And yet, loathe as he was to admit it, Vargas knew that he lacked the firepower and weapons to hold off ZAFT on his own. He needed the Austral Colony, and he needed Agnes Brahe, and he needed that damned Delta Astray.

Emmanuel Vargas hated to _need_ things. Needing things, after all, put one under the control of something other than oneself, and in politics—and especially in war, the exceptionally violent version of politics—it was never good to be under the control of something other than oneself. The Austral Colony would have to be dealt with, and if he could glean its technology first, so much the better.

He glanced over the latest report on the Austral Colony's pride, the _Acidalium_. Defeated yet again in battle by the _Fortuna_, currently en route to the Arm of God for repairs. But of course. Agnes and his men were good enough to not be killed by the Strike Freedom, but they weren't good enough to defeat it—and that, in this war, was unacceptable.

He turned his thoughts towards the massive piece of machinery hovering serenely nearby the moon of Deimos. The Beelzebub Array was a risky gamble, the center of his strategy—but it could be knocked out by a preemptive strike at any time. Security was extraordinarily tight, but Deimos' defense line was falling piece by piece, and soon they would have no choice but to settle down for a siege—and if it came down to a siege, ZAFT and the ZMA, who controlled the rest of the Martian Sphere, would win.

Vargas glanced over the grim tableau of Mars. If all went well, Brahe and his minions, and the uncooperative Austral Colony, would not be necessary for much longer.

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_**, orbit of Mars**

"We're going to be busy while in dock, sir," said Carlos Morales, the ZAFT officer in the black uniform who served as the _Fortuna_'s executive officer. He handed off a tablet to Lyle in the captain's chair, and glanced out the bridge windows as the _Fortuna_ edged towards Messiah's cavernous warship dock. "We've had reports of minor leaks all over the ship. They were patched up _ad hoc_, but we'll have to fix them up properly. Our last repair job was not up to standard, apparently."

"Apparently," agreed Lyle, eyes scanning over the tablet screen. "But we'll have to postpone some of these things, like the engine overhaul." He turned his eyes up towards Morales. "We're going to the Austral Colony after this. Don't get too comfortable."

Morales nodded. "We'll be ready, captain," he said. "Have all the ships been confirmed?"

"Not yet," was Lyle's reply, as he tossed the tablet back to Morales. "We'll have to get in touch with Commander Svante." He shook his head in disgust. "They're going to rely on ZMA troops to provide most of the manpower."

"The ZMA?" Morales echoed, making no effort to hide the contempt in his voice. "Why? They're incompetent."

"Meat shields, Morales." Lyle waved a hand towards Messiah's dock, where three _Nazca_-class destroyers were already visible and swarming with repair units like ants over a corpse. "Evidently High Command does not want to waste our own men's lives if we can waste the ZMA men's lives instead. Our job is to provide flagship facilities for Admiral Harkill and his staff, and the Vice Marshal will lead our troops on the field."

Morales snorted in what Lyle guessed was amusement. "Then we don't really need the ZMA, do we?"

Lyle shrugged. "The Vice Marshal insisted."

"You disapprove?"

Another shrug. "I don't like that the second-in-command of our entire army insists on fighting in the field, when he should be leaving that to lower-ranking soldiers. It's courting disaster."

Morales was quiet for a moment, as the _Fortuna_ glided forward. "Well, be that as it may, sir," he said, "he wouldn't be a very inspirational leader if he just gave orders from here, or from Messiah." He glanced back up at the captain again. "And I doubt he'd be happy as a desk general either."

Lyle thought back to the Vice Marshal's haunted look. "Would he..."

—

Messiah. It was such a fitting name.

A name dreamed up by Chairman Dullindal for this gargantuan fortress, but a suitable name nonetheless. Messiah was the center of ZAFT now, the headquarters, the home for the last remnants of the Coordinator nation that Lord Djibril had so cruelly shot out of the sky. The Coordinators had assembled from themselves and from the last scraps of ZAFT an army, a glorious army that could conquer nations. There was no room anymore for "civilian life," not here, not at unforgiving Mars—and not while vengeance was yet to be had.

That was the thought that sustained Kara Guinness as she wandered the teeming halls and sweeping bays of Messiah. The families that had survived the Requiem blast had gathered here, but most families—including her own—had perished. But amid the anguish and loss, there was always Messiah—and the promise of its return to the Earth Sphere, bringing with it the avenging army of ZAFT and the ghosts of the slain Coordinators. They would have vengeance; they would have _justice_.

But justice wouldn't bring her parents back, now would it? The gruel of vengeance was starting to get thin.

She glanced over her shoulder as Juarez rounded the corner outside the observation deck on a pull-rail. "Hey," he said, coming to a rest next to her at the railing. "You okay?"

"Something like that," she answered, putting her head in her hands.

Juarez arched an eyebrow. "Something like that, huh."

"I'm sorry," Kara said with a sigh, "it's just..." She waved her hand wearily at everything before them. "Frustrating." She turned back towards Juarez. "We've been here for almost three years, Juarez. And...well, and I've been running on adrenaline and anger the whole time." She shook her head. "When are we going back? When will we get this all over with, so we can all move on?"

Juarez glanced over his shoulder himself and fixed Kara with a grim look. "Maybe you've noticed," he said, "but not too many people here _want_ to move on."

"Why? How can we live like this?"

"What else do we have left?"

Kara heaved another sigh and rubbed her forehead painfully. "I know," she said, "I know, but..."

"I miss my family too," Juarez said quietly, "but I have to let go. Or else it will consume me and when the fighting is done, I won't even remember why I fought." He shook his head. "That's just slaughter. It's no better than what Djibril did."

Kara eyed him carefully. "Isn't that what we're fighting for? Justice?"

"Justice would be killing Djibril and his cronies," replied Juarez. "But war on the Naturals themselves...just because Djibril launched one genocide doesn't justify genocide in response. And besides," he gestured around him, towards the fleet, towards Messiah, "it won't bring anyone back. It won't bring anything back."

They gazed together towards Messiah's beam shield assembly, the shield that embraced and protected their temporary home. It was always and ever would be temporary—not least of all because it seethed with anger, with frustration, with despair. Even an army of angry, vengeful soldiers could not stew in that rage forever.

"I just can't wait out here much longer," Kara murmured. "Fighting all these Martians, sulking out here in exile..."

"Our exile won't last forever," Juarez replied, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We'll return. We'll have justice, no matter how. Until then, we have to endure," he waved a hand at the ruddy planet below, "_that_."

Kara glowered down at Mars, towards the faraway bulge where she imagined the Austral Colony to be. "Yes," she agreed, "endure."

—

It was cold. Kira never understood why Valentine kept it so cold in here.

The sprawling command center of Messiah featured a raised dais, with a high-backed chair, a desk, and a massive window dominating the wall and allowing a sweeping vista of outer space. Valentine stood at the middle of the room, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the vast, growing, seething mass of the ZAFT fleet under construction.

Kira knew her before even entering the room, by her sinuous, dark, smoldering _presence_. The intoxicating flame that felt like Fllay—except richer, livelier, burning hotter. It sent chills up his spine even as the _Fortuna_ docked, and it clawed at his brain as he stepped onto the dais.

Valentine snapped her fingers, and a series of thin gray panels slid down around the dais. Kira glanced around in surprise—this was new. Evidently Valentine had done some remodeling.

"Alone at last," she purred, whirling around with a grin on her face and lust glittering in her eyes. "Welcome back, Kira."

They met with an electrifying kiss, the kind with the passion of absence and longing behind it—the kind that Kira most craved. Valentine pulled away from him before the lust overwhelmed them both.

"Not yet," she whispered. "Not here." She led him instead towards the window. "We don't want our troops to get suspicious."

"We'd only be two of many," replied Kira, quashing the urges for the time being. "That rule against fraternization and inappropriate relationships among the troops hasn't exactly been followed to the letter, you know."

"Oh, I know," Valentine said with a smirk. "Let them indulge, to a point. The last thing I need is my troops raping and killing each other." She rested her head against his shoulder with a wistful sigh, her eyes drifting shut. "Can you feel it, Kira?"

A shiver went up his spine as he sensed something strange about his lover. "N-No..."

"I guess you aren't sensitive enough yet," she went on. "Well, give it time." She extended a hand towards the window, and towards the warships and their swarming crews beyond. "Feel it. Feel _them_. All that anger and despair and hatred." She turned towards Kira again, a wicked grin on her lips. "That's _power_."

"As long as they don't abuse it," added Kira, thinking back ruefully to the soldiers at Event Horizon.

"Use it or abuse it, it's power," Valentine continued. "It's _our_ power, Kira. Our power to remake the world." She put a hand over his heart. "We'll make a new world. A better world. We'll sweep away the warmongers and barbarians and make it worth all of the sacrifices."

Kira looked out towards Mars, and felt the presence of Fllay.

_Yes...every sacrifice._

—

To be continued...


	4. Phase 04: To Fight Our War

Mobile Suit Gundam SEED DESTINY - Red Planet

—

Phase 04 - To Fight Our War

—

**November 18th, CE 76 - ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah, orbit of Mars**

Two hundred infantrymen throughout the length and breadth of Messiah. Sympathizers and allies throughout the officer corps. An entire _Nazca_-class destroyer at his disposal if the need arose. Things were coming together nicely for Orville Raclyffe, the ZAFT Black-Shirt charged with the dubious task of serving as Marshal Sunogachi's adjutant.

The imperious Raclyffe stood on an observation deck overlooking the planet Mars and the growing ZAFT fleet, sneering. Marshal Sunogachi. Yes, that was something that had to be changed.

Marshal Sunogachi, for all her talents, was insane. He had seen that personally, both in her plans for ZAFT in their return to the Earth Sphere and her leadership of the army during its exile. Some of her decisions were little more than the choosing of the least terrible option. With the Coordinator population reduced to little more than what surrounded him at Mars, ZAFT had little choice but to press every military-age survivor from the six PLANTs untouched by Lord Djibril's Requiem into service. And the round-the-clock suicide watches in that miserable first year were probably necessary in the long run, as some people simply could not keep up with the strain. In fact, Raclyffe doubted he would have made many decisions differently than hers were he the leader of these exiled Coordinators.

But she was insane. He had seen it. He did not know how, but she seemed to be _feeding_ off of the rage and despair that festered among the exiles of ZAFT—rage and despair she continually fueled with ceaseless propaganda and fire-breathing rhetoric about their messianic return to the Earth Sphere. Raclyffe knew that they would have to return to the Earth Sphere someday and carve out a place of their own by force of arms, but the madness that she fed and fed her blinded her all the same to the exiles' precarious position.

Raclyffe knew that. He was a scholar of war, steeped in military history from his days at the ZAFT Academy and beyond. Marshal Sunogachi's plan relied in part on the ancient doctrine of a "fleet in being," a force not powerful enough to destroy an enemy but powerful enough to command its attention and prevent it from focusing resources elsewhere. The downside of this strategy was blindingly obvious: ZAFT was up against an Alliance led by Blue Cosmos, which had no comparable distractions and would spare no expense in destroying the last of the Coordinators, even if the Coordinators exacted a pound of flesh for every pound of their own in return. But the Marshal was mad, and either did not know this or did not care—and either way, that was dangerous.

And then there was the Goliath. To rely on that thing was surely madness.

Madness indeed, Raclyffe mused, because the Coordinators needed a strong and levelheaded leader in their darkest hour. Marshal Sunogachi was strong, perhaps, but her mind was anything but level—and that would not do for the Coordinators. That had never done for the Coordinators, even at the height of their power and prosperity. Siegel Clyne had not the stomach for the necessities of war; Patrick Zala had not the sense to achieve through diplomacy and economics what he could not achieve through military might; Gilbert Dullindal had not the realism and patience to let nature take its course; and Marshal Sunogachi, well, she had not the sanity to be where she was now.

But Orville Raclyffe would be different. That he knew, and that would sustain him as he put together his _coup d'etat_. The Coordinators needed better—and they would get it.

—

The cramped training facilities of Messiah brought back all too many memories for Kayla Segar, floating on an observation walkway over one of the mobile suit simulator rooms. Large screens near the room's ceiling typically displayed the simulated training battles between both raw recruits and seasoned veterans, and they usually brought out soldiers and crew who had time to kill. At the moment, the screens were dark and the walkway was nearly deserted. The training sessions for intermediate cadets would come later.

The mobile suit simulator room was a memory of her failure in that aspect of ZAFT training. That, she remembered with some embarrassment, had been something of a confidence booster for the other cadets. She had graduated anyways, with superb marks in combat strategy and marksmanship to make up for her uninspiring mobile suit combat performance, and her detailed knowledge of history, strategy, and protocol had put her in the elite ranks of the ZAFT Reds.

Deep down, however, she suspected that the ZAFT Reds were being rewarded primarily to make the rest of ZAFT feel better about themselves. Two of the Reds in her graduating class were promptly killed on the battlefield by the MLA, after all. The days of Athrun Zala and Shinn Asuka were long gone.

But she had persevered, and now she was the military adjutant of the Vice Marshal himself. It was dizzying to be elevated to such an honorable position, even if her role was so unglamorous.

And yet even that was a double-edged sword, because the man she served was so unlike the hero that ZAFT knew. Kira Yamato was a hero to his soldiers, but now that Kayla had served him for almost two years, she could understand that he was as much their symbol and their representative. The scars of ZAFT and the Coordinators were on his body; the contradictions and painful reminders of the Coordinators' condition were his own, with so much of his flesh replaced with mechanical prosthetics.

Seeing the hero as a man made him loom even larger in her mind, because that made him a little more like her—vulnerable, limited, mortal—and, in the cold comfort of Mars, that was important.

—

"It's not such a monster if you think about it," opined Gary in the _Fortuna_'s crew lounge, watching with Kara and Juarez as footage of the mighty Delta Astray flashed by on the main screen. "Look at it. It needs room to maneuver to make those fancy special effects work. Get the three of us and the Vice Marshal on its tail and it won't have that at all."

Juarez looked convinced. "I know you weren't there during Solomon's Sword," he said, "but I was. I was a GuAIZ R pilot. I saw the Destiny in action myself. Believe me when I say that a mobile suit with beam wings will _find_ room to maneuver even if you try to restrict it." He waved a hand at the screen. "And they're gonna have all the room they want at Austral anyway."

Gary snorted dismissively. "He can't be that good."

"He probably is," interrupted Kara, with a touch of annoyance in her voice. "Any enemy that can fight the Marshal to a standstill has got to be."

"He just has the good luck to fight the Marshal on battlefields that play to his strength," Gary replied. "You'll see. When we fight them at Austral, they'll go down."

Juarez tuned them both out as they started to argue, fixing his eyes on the shimmering wings of the Delta Astray. Yes, he had seen that before at Solomon's Sword. The Destiny Gundam had nearly killed him, blowing apart half of his mobile suit and leaving the rest a sparking ruin. And yet he had survived, and a comrade had towed him back to Messiah to treat his wounds, and only after he'd awoken from surgery had he learned of the battle's awful end.

Those wings of light were dangerous, and they had cost his comrades their lives and almost taken his own. He glanced back at his bickering wingmen. The wings of light had taken comrades before, but this time they would take no more.

—

A sharp beep jolted Kira out of his slumber, and with a grunt he glanced around the room. Valentine was curled up next to him, looking thoroughly displeased at the intrusion, and Kira groggily remembered that this was actually her room—and, if memory served, it meant she was getting a call.

Valentine was up before Kira knew it, clicking a button on her nightstand and apparently shaking away her own sleepiness. "Yes?"

"Apologies for disturbing you, Marshal, but Commander Svante's task force has returned, and you requested a report—"

"I understand," she cut off the woman on the other end. "I'll be on the command deck in a few minutes."

Kira rubbed his eye as Valentine switched off the intercom. "One of these days they're gonna find out," he grunted.

"Yes, well, we can cross that bridge when we come to it," answered Valentine. "Get dressed. We have work to do."

Kira blinked the sleep away and ran his mechanical hand through his hair. Work to do, projects to complete, colonies to conquer...one thing after another. It had been entirely too long since he'd last slept with Valentine, and it had hardly been enough—and the thought of returning to his adoring troops, spending that much more time from his beloved, when all he wanted was to hold her in his arms and forget everything, even himself, made it even worse.

And, while he pulled himself out of bed and went hunting for his clothes, that was the real irony. As their faces flitted by his mind's eye, he knew that for as much as he resented his new station in life, he could not let them down. He was the "hero of ZAFT." He was their hope, the only thing other than hatred and revenge that the broken Coordinator nation had to sustain itself in this miserable exile.

In the old days of warfare, the man who bore the standard into battle had the most honorable job—and the most dangerous, because it was a matter of honor for the enemy to kill the man with the standard. Would that be his fate?

Somewhere deep inside, he hoped so.

—

**Arm of God orbital elevator, orbit of Mars**

Silence reigned throughout the Arm of God control room, as Agnes Brahe and Nahe Hershell looked over their new orders in disbelief.

"Recalled to the Austral Colony...?" Nahe murmured. "What for?"

"I knew it," Agnes snapped, hurling the paper aside and fixing the Arm of God's commandant with a withering glare. "ZAFT is going to attack Austral, isn't it? There's no other reason we'd be pulled off the front line."

The commandant merely shrugged. "I wouldn't know, lieutenant," he said. "I'm not privy to any plans to defend Austral anyway. I have my own problems."

"But this is too sudden," protested Nahe. "If they were building up for a strike like that, we'd have noticed them massing troops weeks ago."

"Major," Agnes continued, "we're going to need the _Acidalium_'s repairs expedited." He whirled around in frustration. "I don't believe this. I thought they were targeting Deimos."

"It makes strategic sense," said Nahe. "Austral is the MLA's most powerful surface stronghold. Even if they take Deimos, we'll still have significant combat strength left at Austral."

Agnes stormed out of the control room, closely followed by Nahe. "I should have known," he snarled. "We shouldn't have gotten involved with Vargas in the first place. There's no way Austral can handle ZAFT _and_ the ZMA, not alone. And we can't rely on Vargas. We'll have to defend ourselves against ZAFT."

"Agnes," Nahe started, lowering his voice, "if you're thinking of going to the Council over this, it's not going to work. We're in too deep now. ZAFT isn't going to negotiate with us, because they don't have to. They have enough strength and enough ZMA grunts to overwhelm us. We're going to have to rely on something else."

Rage boiling over, Agnes slammed his fist into the wall and ground his teeth. "Our war can't end like this, Nahe," he growled. "Not like this. Not yet."

—

**Martian Liberation Army **_**Izumo**_**-class battleship **_**Elysium**_**, orbit of Mars**

"Good to see you back on your feet, colonel," Howard greeted with a salute on the _Elysium_'s bridge as Omega Suzuki drifted in. He casually returned the salute, alighting next to the captain's chair. "We're still about nineteen hours out from Ceti XIII, but Major Thomas has reported that the Astray Mars Jacket is complete, except for its outer armor and combat testing."

Omega grinned. "I'll handle that."

Howard regarded his masked commander for a moment. The surgeries and therapies had taken so much out of him that he had only a few months left, at best, to exact his revenge. And what well-deserved revenge it was; to be turned into this mass of flesh and blood, living on borrowed time, deserved nothing less than death itself to balance the scales. The MLA's masked ace needed the best mobile suit that Mars could produce to fight the Strike Freedom and bring justice to Kira Yamato and his evil woman.

The masked ace glanced over at his ship's captain. "Howard," he said, "after we pick up the Mars Jacket, we're heading to the Austral Colony."

"Austral? What—oh, don't tell me ZAFT is going to—"

"Absolutely," said Omega with a wicked grin, "and I have every intention of putting our new toy to use. If Mr. Brahe and his fancy Delta Astray can't get the job done, then _I_ will."

—

**November 19th, CE 76 - Martian Liberation Army headquarters, Deimos**

Emmanuel Vargas loved to hear good news. And with Major Thomas's face on his screen delivering a report direct from the research outpost Ceti XIII, he was getting just what he wanted today.

"We've had a breakthrough on the Voiture Lumiere, sir," reported Thomas. "It's an inefficient design compared to the Delta Astray's system and it still needs testing, but we've managed to replicate the system. With adjustments, we are confident its performance will surpass that of the Delta Astray."

Vargas broke into a grin. "Excellent, major. Excellently done. What are the prospects for mass production of this system?"

Thomas adjusted his glasses. "Unfortunately, they are currently nil, sir. We would need to tighten up the efficiency dramatically before we could even consider mass production. But we are confident that the Turn Delta, even as a prototype, will be able to perform at or near the level of the ZAFT Strike Freedom unit."

"Turn Delta?" asked Vargas, arching an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"It was just an in-joke among the engineers, sir," answered Thomas with a shrug. "Something about turning a delta symbol upside down."

No matter, mused Vargas, his grin returning. At last he had what he needed from the Austral Colony—and it hadn't even been Brahe and his contemptible little band that had provided it, either. He had the pilots; he had the staff; he had the resources; all he needed now was the time. And with the Beelzebub Array nearing completion, soon he would have that too—and then this war would be as good as won.

"Ship the Turn Delta unit to Deimos, major," Vargas instructed. "What of the Astray Mars Jacket?"

"Colonel Suzuki has requested it for his own use, sir. We haven't completed the outer armor yet, but we will do so soon."

Colonel Suzuki. Vargas sniffed in contempt. "Fine. The Mars Jacket is something of a second fiddle anyway. Spare no expense, major; I want Ceti XIII's best troops protecting the Turn Delta as you bring it here. We will need it greatly."

"Understood, sir," replied Thomas with a salute. "Ceti XIII, out."

Vargas's grin grew just a little wider as the screen went dark. Yes, now the wings of light were his—not Austral's, not Brahe's, not the Delta Astray's, but his own—and even the Ultimate Coordinator would kneel before them once more.

—

**Austral Colony, Charitum Montes, Mars**

The _Acidalium_ sliced down through the Martian air and over its rusty surface, towards the imposing mountains of Charitum Montes in the distance. The Austral Colony itself was largely built into the mountains, with some towers and machinery rising up from the ruddy cliffs. The crimson warship slowed and nosed up ponderously near one such opening, as wide metal doors swung open in a welcoming embrace towards the sleek vessel. The _Acidalium_ slowly lowered itself down into the hangar, and the doors swung shut behind it.

The mountains quaked as the _Acidalium_ returned home.

Agnes Brahe stretched his arms gratefully as he disembarked with Nahe, and looked around the spaceport with relief. This was where he belonged; not in the fortresses and on the battlefields of Vargas's choosing, but here, at home, where he was _made_ to belong.

The mechanics immediately set to work on his loyal ship—and his loyal Delta Astray—leaving Agnes and Nahe to report to the colony's ruling Council, but that could come later. Right now he had a home with which to reacquaint himself. It had been almost a year since he had last set foot on the Austral Colony.

He breathed in the air, rarified and recycled as it was. Mars was no place for useless people, and the Austral Colony embraced that doctrine to the fullest. Everyone born here was genetically tailored to and environmentally nurtured for a certain task, necessary for the entire colony's prosperity and survival. Other colonies objected to this genetic caste system, but Agnes knew as well as anyone that the results could not be disputed. The Austral Colony's mineral and industrial output was unparalleled, its efficiency unmatched, its technology unrivaled. It was Austral engineers that had built the Voiture Lumiere, after all, and crafted for Mars a mobile suit that could stand up to the mighty Strike Freedom.

That was all well and good, he mused, but as he looked around the colony while traveling for the Council's offices, he couldn't help but wonder why his people were still losing this war.

—

"You ever stop and ponder the incredible therapeutic power of shooting the holy living shit out of something?"

Standing in the Austral Colony garrison's firing range, Gard could only sigh as Vanfeldt and Hoskin took turns blasting away at paper target sheets with assault rifles. Vanfeldt always had to make it creepy.

"I'm serious," he continued, pausing to replace a spent clip. "Fuck the psychotherapists, when we get back to Earth I'm opening a shooting gallery. Call it an alternative treatment for depression."

"And the people who turn the guns on _themselves?_" Gard asked, against his better judgment.

"Can't make every sale."

Gard decided at that point that it was best to just let Vanfeldt pretend to kill things. Hoskin, at least, had the stereotypical Coordinator's analytical detachment that prevented him from doing stupid things in battle—like torturing the enemy to death instead of just killing him outright.

He regarded the two pilots for a moment, as diametrically opposed as they were. Fate had brought him and them together thanks to Lord Djibril, who had plucked Gard himself from an Alliance prison for his piloting skills despite his resistance against the new Seiran government. He had promised Gard a home and influence in the new Orb government if he performed well at Mars—but therein lay the rub. This was a losing war and he suspected his real purpose was to die out here, far from prying eyes.

But then there was Hoskin, a Coordinator strung along with the promises of surviving the slaughter—even though he too would probably meet his end at Mars. And there was Vanfeldt, who was literally a convicted war criminal whisked off of Death Row for _his_ piloting skills and sent here with the apparent understanding of winning his freedom and exoneration if _he_ performed well.

Lies, all of it, of course. They were here to die. Gard clenched his fists angrily. The man who controlled his country could send him here to die, but that didn't mean he had to die. And he wouldn't—not until he could see his homeland again.

—

**ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah, orbit of Mars**

Kira never quite understood all the eccentricities in which some Coordinators indulged. The man before him was probably one of the most excessive: Vandread Harkill, the speaker in the Messiah control room wearing the purple uniform of a ZAFT flag officer, had bright blue hair and bright red eyes despite being almost sixty. These cases among the oldest Coordinators usually had something to do with parents who had quirks all their own, and the good admiral preferred if people didn't bring it up. But Kira had to admit, it was more than a little distracting.

Which was just great, because he was the man in charge of Operation _Jack of Diamonds_, the assault on the Austral Colony. On the other hand, this probably explained why he always seemed to be mildly annoyed with everything.

Kira shifted his weight uncomfortably beside Valentine's chair as Harkill spoke. "The problem with attacking Austral lies in geography," he said, pointing to a vast map of the southern hemisphere of Mars, centered around the rugged mountains of Charitum Montes. "The clearest path of attack is over the Argyre Planitia, which offers almost no cover and would allow Austral to see us coming from kilometers away. We would have no element of surprise to speak of and our troops would be exposed to relentless fire from the colony."

He waved a hand towards the other approaches to the colony, which even Kira could see were no better. "Approaching from the west, east, and south are also not ideal options," he continued, "because we would have to fight through difficult mountain terrain either way. So," he clicked his heels for emphasis, "my staff and I recommend an orbital drop, commencing as soon as possible."

In her chair, Valentine sniffed contemptuously. "They'll see _that_ coming from kilometers away too."

"Our options are limited, Marshal," replied Harkill.

Valentine was silent for a moment, pondering. "General Arnhalt from the ZMA is committing the entire II Corps to the task, is he not?"

"Yes, ma'am."

At that, a satisfied grin appeared on Valentine's lips. "We can always count on them. That's two brigades of mobile suits. Send them in first. There's no way Austral's defenders will get them all during the descent, and it will leave more than enough to soften up their troops for us."

Harkill shifted uncomfortably. "Marshal, that represents almost a fifth of the ZMA's entire military's mobile suit forces, including their converted labor mobile suits."

At her side, Kira felt his stomach turn. Two brigades meant over eight hundred mobile suits, and that meant over eight hundred pilots. Even if what Valentine said was true, he could only guess how many of those troops would be uselessly blown out of the sky during their descent.

"It doesn't matter," Valentine said with a wave of her hand. "We're on the verge of victory, and this war needs to end. It was useful at first to give our troops battlefield experience, but now our plans are too far along to allow for Vargas's meddling. I'm not risking our plans for Earth for this Martian sideshow." She fixed the admiral with a look. "Rest assured, Harkill, you'll have a trump card in case things don't work as planned. In the meantime, organize that drop for us. Dismissed."

Harkill saluted and took his leave, and as he left the room Valentine fixed her stalwart companion with a smile.

"Kira," she began, "do you recall a certain contingency plan of ours, from when we evacuated the Earth Sphere?"

There were dozens of contingency plans, but one of them stuck out in Kira's memory. During ZAFT's hasty operation to remove anything of value from the beleaguered PLANT Armory 1, ZAFT troops had equipped a set of nuclear warheads with N-Jammer Cancellers and aimed them at the advancing Alliance fleet in case things got desperate. Fortunately, they did not—the Alliance troops were too exhausted from Solomon's Sword to put up a fierce enough fight to warrant such a move—and ZAFT escaped to Mars with a cache of nuclear weapons.

His blood froze as the pieces fell into place. Surely she didn't mean...

"The authorization code is 'Thunderclap,'" Valentine continued. "I trust your judgment will suffice on the battlefield."

"That...that would kill almost a million civilians at Austral," protested Kira.

"Well," Valentine replied with a shrug, "the other option is fighting corridor by corridor. And who knows how many civilians _that_ will kill, not to mention our own men." She looked back up at him again, this time with a hint of compassion in her eyes. "I know you'd rather not do this, but we have to end this war. The MLA is losing, but the further they get backed into a corner, the more desperate they'll get and the more damage they could do—to everything. We have to fight this war here at Mars, Kira, but it's not truly our war."

Kira took a moment to compose himself. "I know," he said at last. "I understand. I just..."

"I know," Valentine said, and as Kira looked back into her eyes, he knew that she really did.

—

Kara looked up in surprise as she found Gary on the hangar gantry, staring impassively at his disassembled Impulse unit on the hangar floor. She pondered asking him what was wrong, and against her better judgment landed next to him.

"They've got new Silhouette packs for the Impulse," he said, before she could ask. "Did you hear?"

"What, about those three Second Stage ones?"

"No. The Destiny Silhouette pack." He narrowed his eyes at his own machine. "The one they used as a prototype for the Destiny itself."

Kara glanced skeptically down at the hangar floor. "What about it?"

"They're assigning it to that test pilot from Armory 1," Gary continued. "Stroud or whatever."

"What about it?"

A scowl flashed across Gary's face. "That thing can bring the baseline Impulse on par with the Destiny," he growled. "It's performance. Why are they wasting it on Stroud? He was laid up for months because he was such a fool during the Armory 1 attack. Why don't they give that thing to me? They know I'm better than him. I'm in FAITH."

Kara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Gary, this is petty. Yes, you're in FAITH. Who cares if you don't get to play with every new toy?" She shook her head. "Besides, Mare was a pretty good test pilot, and his wounds were hardly his fault. And..." She trailed off, as images of the Traitor Asuka darted through her memory. "They probably wanted to give it to him for...special reasons."

Gary's scowl grew a little colder. "You guys are just _full_ of those," he snarled.

"Gary—"

He whirled around, fixing Kara with a furious stare. "Always telling me that I wouldn't understand, because I come from Mars and not from the Earth Sphere."

Kara answered with a scowl of her own. "Don't you _dare_ denigrate what we've gone through, Gary," she shot back. "You can't even begin to—"

"_Children,_" another voice loudly interrupted. Both pilots turned towards the doorway, where Juarez was striding through with a look of irritation. "I trust you two are mature and disciplined enough to put aside your differences? Or will I need to put them aside for you?"

Both were silent as Juarez purposefully put himself between them on the gantry.

"Gary, just be patient," he went on. "I know you don't like fighting these small fry. But you'll have to do it anyway. The MLA is as much our enemy as the Earth Alliance, and we'll get to fight them soon." He looked back towards Gary. "Alright?"

Gary heaved a sigh. "If this waiting doesn't kill me first."

—

Thunderclap.

The word was already seared into his mind and he hadn't even entered battle yet. Kira sat at his desk in the master office, head in his hands, contemplating the word and the nightmarish context in which he'd have to use it. How fitting that a single strike from the heavens would be within his power to snuff out the Austral Colony like a god. Why bother trying to capture the colony when he could just nuke it off the face of the planet?

Of course there was a reason. To capture it, and its technology. They had produced the Delta Astray, after all.

And yet there were a million people there, civilians with no real part in this war, civilians that he would have to destroy to complete his objective. They would die anyway, during the battle—the ZMA troops would make no effort to distinguish targets from bystanders—so why not sweep them off the mortal plane painlessly and simply, and save the lives of his own and the ZMA's men too?

The Austral Colony wasn't even completely innocent. No, they had that abominable genetic caste system that stripped away freedom and individuality in favor of utility and efficiency. It was a colony of oppression and broken lives and powerlessness, and even if they were freed from its rule they would never be freed from its influence. In a way, this was the best option for the people of the Austral Colony—the option that spared them from their own leaders, from the ZMA's clutches, and from the ghosts of their own pasts.

And as that idea churned in his mind, Kira realized with a moan just how far he was from Heliopolis and the _Archangel_. Five years ago he would have been disabling mobile suits in hopes that their pilots would see the meaninglessness of conflict; now he was contemplating a tactical nuclear strike as an act of mercy.

But too much had passed during those five years to go back, that he knew. He couldn't go back to merely disabling mobile suits—not when their pilots still possessed the will to fight, and not when their leaders could simply produce newer and more powerful mobile suits. Destroying the weapons without destroying the soldiers only helped the people who profited from making weapons—and that just meant prolonging conflict. That was pointless. That was Lacus's folly.

Fleeing to a safe haven and holing up against the world was pointless too—because someday the world would come knocking anyway. People could run and hide from war for a time, but they could never truly escape it. Collecting powerful weapons would only go so far from keeping the war away from one's shores. Diplomacy and trickery could only achieve so much. The world was a world at war, and to run from it was to run from the inevitable—and the inevitable always caught up. That was pointless. That was Cagalli's folly.

And he knew how cruel this world could be, because it created him, and it took _her_ away from him. A world like that was too cruel to be saved. That was Athrun's folly.

He thought back to that nuclear weapon waiting for the Austral Colony. If it became necessary, he would have to use it. And in the long run, there was something better coming—a new world, ruled by an enlightened people, physically and mentally greater than before. It had to be done, and even as the fires churned within him and the screams haunted his sleep, what quenched the flames and silenced the voices was that iron will to see something better come from all these pointless sacrifices.

What had Fllay died for? It could not have been nothing. He would never accept that.

—

**November 20th, CE 76 - ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah, orbit of Mars**

The majestic winged form of the _Fortuna_ regally spread its wings as it inched out of Messiah's space dock. The flagship of ZAFT was motionless for a moment, but a cloud of exhaust flared out from its engines and the ship began to speed off into the stars.

Standing on the deck of the Messiah control room, Valentine watched with a smile. Off went her knight to slay dragons for her and pile treasure at her feet. The Austral battle would probably be bloody, mostly for the MLA and ZMA, but Valentine had few worries. The latter were expendable, and near useless either way—and besides, there was so much more to be done that this war was beginning to get tiresome.

She grinned, even as she felt Kira's presence grow dimmer with distance. The pain had been almost overwhelming when she'd told him about that contingency plan, but it was necessary—and it was a final test, to see if he truly had the necessary steel in his spine for what lay ahead. What lay ahead in the Earth Sphere, after all, was no less than Armageddon itself.

Valentine watched the _Fortuna_ depart until it could no longer be seen. He would have to say that word. She needed him to say that word.

The princess, after all, needed her knight.

—

To be continued...


	5. Phase 05: Revolutionary

Mobile Suit Gundam SEED DESTINY - Red Planet

—

Phase 05 - Revolutionary

—

**November 20th, CE 76 - Martian Liberation Army research station Ceti XIII**

"Magnificent!" cackled Omega Suzuki as he alighted on the hangar gantry's railing. Bald and bespectacled Major Thomas of the Technical Division and Howard watched as Omega looked over the new mobile suit before him. The Astray Mars Jacket was still missing its heavy crimson outer armor, but on the other hand those two massive katanas on its back and its dramatic white and red finish made it look imposing all on its own.

"As you can see, the outer armor is not yet complete," Thomas began, "but we hope—"

"Can this machine fight the Strike Freedom as is?" interrupted Omega, a wild grin on his lips. Thomas blinked in surprise.

"Um, yes sir, but—"

"Colonel," Howard cut in, "that may not be wise—"

"I'll be fine," Omega went on with a dismissive wave of his hand, "but aren't you dying to see this thing in a live combat situation? See how well your work stacks up against the real thing?"

"Of course," Thomas answered, "but sir, the Mars Jacket isn't even complete yet."

"Let's just say I'm short on time," replied Omega, "and I'm not willing to miss an opportunity to take another shot at Kira Yamato. Understand?"

The look on Thomas plainly showed that he did not, but he nodded nonetheless. "We have orders from Generalissimo Vargas to move the Turn Delta to Deimos anyways. We can let you use the Mars Jacket during the operation."

Omega's grin widened. "Perfect."

—

**Austral Colony, Charitum Montes, Mars**

Agnes Brahe fixed the man before him with a steely look. Gard Dell Hokura was probably the most professional and fit of the five misfit soldiers that Djibril had sent to Mars, but that didn't mean Agnes had to like him. He was undoubtedly spying on the Martians for Djibril, and the thought that he was doing the bidding of Blue Cosmos's leader made Agnes' skin crawl either way. Blue Cosmos had no foothold at Mars—except for these damned pilots.

"The Daggers are perfectly suited to combat on the Martian surface, sir," Gard explained. "As far as we're concerned, it's little different from the lunar surface in the Earth Sphere."

Agnes studied Gard's impassive face for a moment. "There will be no room for mistakes, you know. We of the Austral Colony represent the finest military force the MLA has to offer. ZAFT will not hold back against us."

"Of course."

Holding back a sigh, Agnes turned towards the railing of the gantry overlooking the Austral Colony's dock, where the crimson _Acidalium_ was undergoing much-needed repairs. So much was riding on his back alone, on the shoulders of his Delta Astray.

"If I may, sir," Gard went on, "I'd like to point out that my team is consistently able to fight the _Fortuna_'s mobile suit complement, and match them blow for blow."

"Matching them blow for blow isn't good enough when our objective is to destroy them."

Speaking up for the first time since the conversation began, Nahe stepped out of the shadows and cleared his throat. "To be fair, Agnes, destroying them is just a consolation prize. Especially in this battle. Our real objective is to protect the Austral Colony."

Agnes narrowed his eyes. "No. We have to destroy them. _I_ have to destroy them." He whirled around angrily on the two dark-skinned men. "I don't expect either of you to understand it. But I have to destroy Kira Yamato and his minions. Otherwise Mars will never have peace."

"Agnes," Nahe said with a laugh, "it doesn't come down to just one man."

Agnes turned again, glowering down at the _Acidalium_.

_It does in this war._

—

"Man, this sucks," groaned Vanfeldt, feet propped up on a table as he watched with the rest of Gard's team as supplies were loaded into the _Acidalium_. What sucked was not the resupply work, but rather the tense atmosphere in the observation room among the other three pilots. Those bastards needed to lighten up.

"Quit your bitchin'," snapped Waid. "You don't even have to worry about what you're gonna fucking _fly_ out there."

"Oh yeah?" Vanfeldt shot back with a grin. "What, you can't keep up with the Slaughter Dagger anymore?"

At Waid's side, Hoskin regarded the _Acidalium_'s Dagger units coldly, visible in the ship's open hangar. "We were not sent with the best machines the Alliance had to offer. They could have equipped us with Windams."

"Don't you get it?" cackled Vanfeldt. "We're _expendable!_" Across the room, Sars seemed to jump at the word, and Vanfeldt shot him a wolfish grin.

"Shut up, Vanfeldt," Hoskin interrupted, before either could speak. "You're scaring Sars."

"Oh, don't get so down on yourself," Waid chuckled, clapping a reassuring hand on Sars' shoulder and ignoring the way she jumped in surprise. "These guys may be all Coordinators, but they're the leftovers from Solomon's Sword. The rejects and shitbags who just got lucky. They can't beat us with that."

"If you say so," muttered Sars with a nervous glance.

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_**, orbit of Mars**

The Impulse Gundam.

It was one of ZAFT's finest creations, and Kara Guinness, floating before her unit in the _Fortuna_'s hangar, realized with a start just how proud—and how lucky—she was to pilot it. Granted, there were at least five other units beside her own in service with ZAFT, and there was a seventh unit unaccounted for in the Earth Sphere, but she was still part of a singular elite. It took skill and discipline to pilot a mobile suit with the unique feature of being able to disassemble and reassemble itself in midair.

Not only did it take skill and discipline, but to be one of this exclusive club of Impulse pilots, it took trust. Kara's blood boiled at the thought. She had still been in the Academy when the news came that the Impulse's first pilot, Shinn Asuka, had betrayed his country at Arzachel Crater. And the fiasco at Arzachel, topped off by Asuka's treachery, was the start of a long and sad decline that led the bedraggled soldiers of ZAFT to this spot, this miserable exile, on the unforgiving red planet.

Trust was what Shinn Asuka had broken, and trust is what ZAFT—what Marshal Yamato, even—had placed in her by giving her this remarkable machine. The Traitor Asuka, after all, had stained his Impulse unit's hands with the blood of far too many of his former comrades. She could do terrible things to her comrades with it. It had to be trust.

She glanced at the machine's left shoulder armor, where she found the stylized, swooping emblem of FAITH—another symbol of trust. The political system of the PLANTs was long gone and there was no Chairman to whom the elite soldiers of FAITH could answer, but there was Marshal Sunogachi and Vice Marshal Yamato, and they were swept up in the hopes and dreams of the Coordinators like no Chairman had ever been. She was a member of FAITH and a pilot of an Impulse Gundam unit—two gestures of supreme, humbling trust by the two commanders she knew would save their people from extinction.

But Marshal Yamato had for her a third such gesture, because she had the singular honor of flying into battle at the gleaming Strike Freedom's side. He—and all of ZAFT—trusted her to support him in combat. What greater honor and trust was there than that?

Only once she had understood that honor and trust did she realize how humbling it was to bear that weight on her shoulders. And she was only a pilot, not tasked with the burden of leadership. What did it mean to be Marshal Yamato, and bear the weight of a hero?

That, she supposed, was maybe why he always looked so sad.

—

Kira studied the display before him on the desk of his office carefully for a moment. The ZAFT fleet itself at Austral would be relatively small, and most of the fighting and dying would be done by the ZMA regulars. That was an unsettling thought, but this was war and war was full of those. The ZAFT troops to be dropped would likely benefit from the hundreds of human shields surrounding them during their descent, but the battle would inevitably become little more than a wide array of disconnected units battering at Austral's defenses and causing unquantifiable chaos.

And, of course, if things went poorly, there was always Thunderclap.

Kira glanced up at Kayla, standing dutifully in front of his desk. "When we attacked Event Horizon," he said, "what was Admiral Harkill's staff estimating the casualty count at Austral to be?"

Recalling facts and figures was one of Kayla's strong points, and Kira felt slightly guilty about using her as a walking database. "About a thousand ZMA soldiers," she answered, "and about a hundred ZAFT soldiers. He could not estimate enemy losses, but believes that they will be over five thousand."

_That_ would be optimistic, Kira mused. Five thousand _enemy_ deaths, perhaps. "What about civilians?"

Kayla shrugged. "His staff focused only on military casualties. I can ask him—"

"It's alright," Kira interrupted. "I'm just being sentimental again."

"There's nothing wrong with that, sir."

_Of course there is_, thought Kira. Being sentimental meant showing weakness, and this world of lies and hatred was too cruel to let him be weak. Not now, not yet. He had to be hard and cold, because the world was harder and colder—hard and cold enough to use the Thunderclap without a second thought.

"I think that's enough for today," Kira said with a sigh. "There's not a whole lot in the way of planning we can do for this anyway. It'll all be rushed. You're dismissed." He offered her a reassuring smile as he returned her salute.

Kira watched her leave with a heavy heart. No matter what he did at the Austral Colony, they would still consider him a hero.

—

**November 21st, CE 76 - ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah, orbit of Mars**

There was no room for mistakes, reflected Raclyffe. Messiah's blueprints stared back at him from his computer terminal in his bunk. The amount of control his troops needed to exercise over this fortress was staggering. They would need to control the main control room, the secondary control points, the reactor section, the docking bays, and the airspace around the fortress itself. The _Thales_ could take care of that final point, and he only hoped that two hundred infantry would be enough to control the rest and force Vice Marshal Yamato and Marshal Sunogachi into a position of negotiation.

He glanced over the rest of the fortress. It was the ultimate power in this patch of space, and it was only fitting, he supposed, that the home of ZAFT's exiled survivors be named for the great leader that would one day return and bring justice. Coordinators would rally around Messiah, and with ZAFT as its vanguard, it would deliver the suffering survivors in the Earth Sphere from Blue Cosmos.

But that would only happen if Marshal Sunogachi was removed. He glanced over the control points again. Two hundred infantrymen could control Messiah, he supposed, and a _Nazca_-class destroyer could keep its guns trained on the main control room as an additional threat against any ZAFT troops loyal to Sunogachi. With all that in place, all that remained was to negotiate for control of ZAFT with Vice Marshal Yamato.

Raclyffe paused to consider the great hero of ZAFT. He outwardly showed all the necessary hallmarks of loyalty to Sunogachi, but what was lurking behind those mismatched eyes? The Vice Marshal he was surely privy to Sunogachi's plans, and if he was as great as the rank and file believed, surely he would recognize insanity for what it was.

Where did Kira Yamato's loyalties truly lie? Raclyffe sat back and pondered.

—

"Frankly, President Schroeder," Valentine said with a sardonic air and steepled fingers in Messiah's main control room, "I am out of patience for this war. It is not really the fight we came for, and every loss we incur is a setback towards our real goal. And you know as well as I do that the Alliance won't wait for us to come back to them forever."

On the main screen, Wilhelm Schroeder of the ZMA blanched at the thought of the Alliance suddenly finding reason to pay more attention to Mars. "Of course, Marshal, but I have to be honest. We do not have the resources to successfully end this war without ZAFT's help. We are armed with your army's surplus and our space fleet consists of old refitted freighters. The MLA is getting materiel from Lord Djibril. Alone, we are outclassed."

"Of course you are," Valentine answered, fixing him with a scathing look, "which is why it's your men who are going in first on the Austral operation and not mine. But your forces are not moving hard enough against Deimos, and I want to know why."

"Marshal, with respect, it's because we are under-equipped—"

"You are not," Valentine snapped, and Schroeder fell silent as the Marshal's face twisted in fury. "I don't know what's gotten into you, Schroeder, but I shall remind you that you are subordinate to ZAFT in all respects for the duration of our stay here. We are the power here. We are the power that made you, that gave you an army, that arms you and supports you and makes you a force in the Martian Sphere. No colony would respect you and no one would rally to your banner without us. And we do not _need_ you, so if you renege on your part of our deal," her lips curled into a wicked grin, "well, I'm sure you understand."

Schroeder stared back with a look of disbelief. "Marshal, I know you're just using my men as meat shields—"

"_Our_ men, actually," interrupted Valentine, her voice icy. "Don't act like the ZMA is _yours_, Schroeder. We gave it to you, and we can just as easily take it away from you." She shrugged. "If it's any consolation, we're only doing it this once. I'll have need for a flock of Naturals when we return to the Earth Sphere."

At that, Schroeder's pale face went even paler. "E-Excuse me?"

"You didn't think we were going to just up and _leave_, did you?" cackled Valentine. "Of course not. Why do you think we want to keep the factories and infrastructure intact? Mars will be our stronghold still, and if you want to hold on to what power and privilege you have right now, you'd best make sure that it stays that way." She grinned, and enjoyed the spectacle as Schroeder squirmed like a cornered animal. "Understand?"

Schroeder relented. "Of course."

—

**Martian Liberation Army **_**Izumo**_**-class battleship **_**Elysium**_**, en route to Mars**

His name was Sam Janelin, and this cocky, blue-haired young Coordinator was the test pilot that Major Thomas had personally selected for the mighty new Turn Delta. Regarding him on the _Elysium_'s bridge, Omega Suzuki could not really disagree with that decision. "Shooting Star Janelin," as he was called, had been a reputable ace before being pulled off the front lines for testing in the Turn Delta. And what a machine it was—only an ace of Janelin's skill and reputation could effectively control the Voiture Lumiere.

"I want you to take everything that the mechanics told you about cautious testing, Lieutenant Janelin," Omega said, "and forget about it. I have a better idea for testing the Turn Delta."

Janelin arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "You do?"

Omega grinned. "We're taking on the Strike Freedom."

His grin widened as he noticed the smirk crossing over Janelin's lips. An ego to match his talents—perfect. "I don't suppose you'll be letting me play alone, will you?"

"Of course not. I'll be testing the Mars Jacket. But there is no better opponent to try out this weapon against than ZAFT's gleaming little hero, don't you agree?"

"I suppose," Janelin said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "But this seems rather, you know, random. We'd be ambushing them in the middle of nowhere and putting the freighter at risk."

Omega glanced out the bridge windows at the bright orange _Marseille III_-class freighter _Nadia_, cruising along closely beside the _Elysium_. "What is war without some risk?"

"But this is unnecessary risk."

Omega fixed Janelin with a silencing stare. "Lieutenant, are you really going to pass up a chance to fight _Kira Yamato?_" He held back a grin as Janelin paused to reconsider. "What would make a more impressive test for the Turn Delta, not to mention for you, than to fight against the very best pilot and mobile suit that ZAFT has to offer? Think of the possibilities. You could singlehandedly turn the tide of this war."

At that, Janelin's eyes lit up, and Omega knew he had struck gold. "Very well, then, colonel," the blue-haired ace said with a grin. "You're on."

"Perfect. We launch in three hours." Omega glanced over at Howard. "Captain, if you'd be so kind as to change our course," he grinned, "we have a date with Kira Yamato."

—

**Austral Colony, Charitum Montes, Mars**

"The Beelzebub Array will make all of these considerations moot," explained Emmanuel Vargas, his face lined with annoyance taking up the huge main screen of the Austral Colony's control room. Agnes Brahe crossed his arms and struggled not to look too spitefully at him. "We are low on resources and manpower. The ZMA's fleet is moving towards Deimos. The Beelzebub Array is our last viable option to win this war, and in order to complete it, we need to buy as much time as possible and preserve as many of our forces as possible to defend it."

Agnes felt his face twitch in anger. "Sir," he began, fighting to keep the venom out of his voice, "I understand Beelzebub's importance. But we are undermanned and isolated, and we cannot fend off a joint invasion by ZAFT and the ZMA on our own. We need reinforcements."

"I know. And I told you that we have none to spare."

Fury bubbled up through Agnes' veins. "We will be knocked out of the war, or worse."

Vargas fixed Agnes with a petrifying stare, and it was all Agnes could do to keep the fury off his face. "Lieutenant Brahe, until Beelzebub is complete, all operations not crucial to its completion are on hold. That includes the defense of Austral. I would like to commit forces to the colony's defense, but this is a war, lieutenant, and sacrifices must be made. We do not have the resources and men to support such an operation." He shrugged, and his indifference made Agnes' blood boil. "If it's any consolation, the enemy occupation will not be long. Once Beelzebub is complete, we will be able to force ZAFT to the table and make them agree to terms of our choosing, including evacuation of Austral Colony. But we cannot sacrifice the entire war for one colony." He fixed Agnes with a look that brooked no disagreement. "Understood?"

Agnes swallowed hard. "Understood."

"Good." Vargas offered a thin smile. "Best of luck in your battle with ZAFT. Deimos, out."

The screen went dark, and at the back of the room, Nahe Hershell braced himself. _Here it comes..._

The storm began with Agnes putting a dent into the console before him with his fist. "_I cannot tolerate this!_" He whirled around, eyes wide with rage. "We have fought loyally as Vargas's dogs for _two years_ and now, in our moment of greatest need, he _abandons us!_"

"Agnes," Nahe began while keeping his distance, "he does have a point. The main MLA force doesn't have much to spare and the ZMA fleet—"

"He _needs_ us, Nahe!" roared Agnes. "Without us he has nothing that can take on Yamato!"

Nahe shifted uncomfortably and glanced at one of the men at the side console. "Corporal, if you'd call up the footage from yesterday..."

The main screen flickered to life, and Agnes turned in horror as he saw a white and red mobile suit dart across the starry sky. White and red, with a huge yellow piece of machinery on its back—a piece of machinery that was sprouting the telltale pink beam wings of the Delta Astray.

"That's the Turn Delta," explained Nahe quietly. "The MLA's first in-house mobile suit to use the Voiture Lumiere system. It's not as efficient as ours, but it's more powerful and it's only a matter of time before they figure out how to mass-produce it. I wager that Vargas is buying time for _that_ as much as he is for Beelzebub."

Agnes stared in disbelief at the Turn Delta, swooping by with beam wings glimmering against the stars. "He doesn't need us anymore." He turned back towards Nahe. "Then why is he stringing us along with these half-promises?"

"He's a politician," Nahe answered with a shrug. "Probably keeping his options open. Besides, he never did like us, and it's not as though the feeling was ever mutual. I don't know why you never saw this coming."

Agnes ran a hand ruefully through his hair. "So we're on our own. What do we have to fight the invasion with?"

"Ten thousand troops, about nine hundred mobile suits total. Our space fleet is down to ten _Marseille III_ ships and another hundred and fifty mobile suits. And before you ask, we've got no idea what numbers ZAFT and the ZMA will throw at us."

Hopelessness, Agnes realized, was the feeling rising through his chest. Vargas had abandoned the Austral Colony. They did not have the forces to fend off the enemy. ZAFT smelled blood in the water and would not accept anything less than outright capitulation. Yes, this was it, there was simply no more hope.

No more hope, perhaps, but as Agnes looked back up at the glimmering Turn Delta, that did not mean he could not fight.

Kira Yamato, after all, would expect nothing less.

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_**, en route to Mars**

Fifteen thousand civilian deaths. That was Admiral Harkill's estimate for the death toll at the Austral Colony. The conservative estimate. The not so conservative estimate ran from anywhere between thirty to one hundred thousand.

Kira quickly moved to put the number in perspective. Even the worst-case estimate was far less than one percent of the people killed by the Requiem cannon in CE 74. Surely that many people died on Earth in a single day of mundane things like traffic accidents and diseases and old age, to say nothing of the guerrilla war that Valentine's spies reported was raging across the Earth Sphere.

And either way, Kira knew that Admiral Harkill's worst-case scenario was not the _real_ worst-case scenario. The population of the Austral Colony was just over one million, and not many of _them_ would survive a nuclear blast, even in the rarified Martian atmosphere.

Kira glanced up at Kayla, who stood before his desk silently, waiting for him to speak. He immediately felt a little guilty, making her just stand there awkwardly while he brooded.

"Is there something wrong with Admiral Harkill's estimates?" she asked.

He shook his head, and regarded her for a moment. "Do you know about the Austral Colony's society?" Kayla blinked, and Kira took that as a no. "They genetically tailor every baby towards a certain class of tasks," he explained, "on the reasoning that the colony is cramped and far from assistance, so every person needs to have a vital function. Your vocation throughout your life at the colony is decided before you're born by genetic manipulation, and, at least within the Austral Colony, you're not permitted to change that job. If you were designed to be a menial worker but you want to be a teacher or a leader, too bad." He arched an eyebrow at her. "What do you think of that?"

"That's horrible, sir."

"I agree." Kira sat back thoughtfully. "Now, battles being what they are, there's a good chance that far more civilians will be killed there than Admiral Harkill estimates. The worst case scenario, we'll say, is that every single one of them die. What do you think of _that?_"

Kayla struggled for words for a moment. "Th-That would be horrible too."

At that, Kira smiled sadly. "Now, some people have left the Austral Colony. But because of their genetic predispositions and social conditioning, they've found that doing what they want to do rather than what they were made to do is almost impossible. A menial worker at the Austral Colony wasn't given the aptitude to do anything but menial work. So no matter what happens, anyone born at the Austral Colony will be subject to that genetic caste system." He fixed Kayla with a look, wondering what she was thinking. His nascent senses picked up anxiety and worry from her, but he could not be sure what she was worried about. "So," he continued, "which would be worse? To let them all live or to let them all die?"

For a moment, Kayla was thoughtfully silent, and Kira almost wondered if she had no answer before she spoke up. "I think it doesn't matter either way, sir," she said, "because there's nothing anyone can do to help them."

Kira felt that answer sting his heart. Yet he knew it had at least a little truth to it. If he used the Thunderclap and erased the Austral Colony from the face of Mars, he would destroy a million lives against their will; if he let them live, he would leave them in miserable bondage. Either way he was doing evil. Which was worse?

"If I may say so, sir," Kayla continued, to Kira's surprise, "I feel that you're worrying about this too much. We're at war, and the MLA is not nearly as evil an enemy as the Alliance will be. And," she faltered for a moment, and Kira felt the anxiety spike, "and we need you to be strong, sir. You are the hero of our people." She gestured outward, towards everything—the ship, Messiah, the fleet, everyone within them. "Without you and Marshal Sunogachi, we're a broken and angry band of survivors. Most of us would have committed suicide by now. We're in a hopeless, miserable exile, and every day we spend fighting the MLA is a day wasted, because we all know that the Alliance is still in the Earth Sphere and they're still getting stronger. And we, the last of the Coordinators, have to be ready for them." She looked pleadingly at the hero of ZAFT, and Kira felt more than ever the burden of the name. "We'll follow you no matter what you do and where you go. We know you won't lead us astray. But sir, please, you have to be strong. Not just for me, or for yourself, but for all of ZAFT. We can't do what we have to do if we see you falter, sir."

Kira felt the words gnaw at him. If only she knew just how much under which he was faltering, she might not be telling him to be strong. But she was right. ZAFT looked to him and to Valentine as fervently and desperately as they looked to the fleet's return to the Earth Sphere. It was hope. Kira Yamato bested his foes in combat, and Valentine crafted ingenious plans to restore the might of ZAFT's fighting forces. They believed in him. They followed him. They required him to lead them.

_No matter what._

He closed his eyes and smiled. "I'm sorry, Kayla. You're right."

—

Juarez glanced ruefully between the simulator readout sheets and a skeptical Gary Talon, both of them floating in front of the _Fortuna_'s simulator room. Gary was a great pilot, Juarez hated to admit—because if he did, that would just swell the bastard's ego to greater unknowable sizes, and the last thing Gary Talon needed was an increase in his ego.

"I don't understand why they won't turn over the Destiny Impulse units to us," Gary muttered. "It's not like we aren't qualified."

"Our units perform fine, Gary."

"And what if they don't?" Juarez glanced up in mounting irritation. "What if we need that extra performance, against the MLA or against the Alliance? What then, huh?"

"Gary, look, maybe our commanders have a better idea of what to do with new equipment than you do. This army isn't about giving you the nicest new toys."

Gary very nearly snarled. "If you want to win—"

"Oh, shut up," Juarez snapped, and finally tossed aside the papers and seized Gary by the collar. "I have just about fucking had it with your egotistical whining, so as the squad commander, I am going to say this once and if it doesn't take then I'll beat the shit out of you until it does." He scowled, and inwardly relished the look of surprise and mild fear that crossed Gary's features. "You may have been born here, but you're a Coordinator, and as long as you are a soldier of ZAFT, _that comes first_. You can't imagine what it is we went through in the Earth Sphere. You weren't a part of it, and that's not going to change. But you're a Coordinator, and you're one of us—you're not _better than us_." He tapped the well-polished FAITH badge on Gary's chest. "See that thing? Remember the ceremony and the importance attached to it? It means you're not a fucking Martian anymore, you're a soldier of ZAFT, you're a member of FAITH, and if you don't start acting like it there will be hell to pay like you can't even fathom." He pushed Gary's back against the wall. "Got it?"

Gary almost audibly gulped. "Got it."

"Good fucking answer." Juarez pushed him to the side. "Now get out of my sight."

As Gary slinked off in defeat, Juarez turned back towards the discarded papers, muttering curses to himself.

_Damn you, Gary, I want out of here too_. He glanced down the hallway. _This isn't where our enemy is._

—

"It's too bad we're going to be in orbit for this battle," sighed Lyle, sitting back in the _Fortuna_'s captain's chair. Carlos glanced down at him from his place next to the mobile suit deck console. "We'll miss all the action at Austral."

"There's still their space fleet, sir," Carlos pointed out.

"Yes, but they'll be far from our location," Lyle said, "so—"

A wail of alarms from the sensor console cut him off, and all eyes turned sharply towards it. The sensor officer bent down over the display for a moment.

"Captain, a heat signature from eleven o'clock. It looks like the _Elysium_."

Lyle snapped his eyes towards the bridge windows, where he could see the flickering light of the _Elysium_'s exhaust—and two more dots of light moving out from it. "Inform the Marshal," he ordered. "Shield the bridge and go to Condition Red!"

—

Kira scanned the stars for a sign of his enemy as the Strike Freedom rocketed into space. His three FAITH wingmen were standing by to launch, but Kira had instructed them to stay put for the time being. "Tyler," he said, "how many mobile suits were on approach again?"

"Only two, sir," the sensor officer replied. "But their heat signatures don't match anything in the database. They might be totally new models."

Kira winced at the unmistakable pressure of Omega Suzuki. So he was here. But who was the other?

He zoomed in on the two approaching mobile suits. One was a red and white affair with two huge swords on its back, and that was the machine from which Omega's pressure emanated. But the other...

That one flashed its eyes, and Kira felt his blood run cold as the wings of light came to life upon its back.

—

To be continued...


	6. Phase 06: The Turn Delta

Mobile Suit Gundam SEED DESTINY - Red Planet

—

Phase 06 - The Turn Delta

—

**November 21st, CE 76 - Orbit of Mars**

With a flash and a blinding cloud of afterimages rippling from the beam wings blazing out of the massive yellow emitter on its back, the Turn Delta charged. Before Kira knew it, a beam saber had sprouted off the mobile suit's left arm, and it sliced both of the Strike Freedom's beam rifles in two with a single graceful swing. Kira backed away and let loose the Strike Freedom's railguns—and bit back a curse as the Turn Delta ducked aside and charged in close again, slamming its saber down onto the Freedom's beam shield. Kira drew a saber of his own and hacked at the Turn Delta's waist; the red and white machine blocked his swing with an effortless saber thrust.

"This one is different..." Kira grunted. The Turn Delta surged forward, pounding the Freedom with a kick to the chest. Kira leveled off the Callidus cannon and opened fire; the Turn Delta darted to the side, whirling around the Freedom and bringing its beam rifle to bear. Kira whipped around to deflect the blast with his beam shield; his instinct rippled up his spine, and he sent the Strike Freedom rocketing upward to dodge another blast.

"Forgetting someone?" cackled Omega Suzuki. The Astray Mars Jacket leveled off its beam rifle for another salvo. "These are no ordinary Astrays, Yamato!"

Kira ground his teeth and threw his machine through the two mobile suits' web of firepower. "I can see that!" The Freedom whipped around, beam saber held high, and charged at the Mars Jacket—only for the target to dart aside, leaving the Turn Delta in its place to slam the Freedom's saber with its own. Kira lunged to the right as the Turn Delta charged forward with a killing stab. "That's it!" Kira backed away from his two foes and concentrated, reaching out mentally towards the eight nodes behind him. Exhaust blazing, the Freedom's eight DRAGOON units lifted off. "Don't mock me!"

"Like those toys are going to stop us!" Omega laughed—and, true to form, the Mars Jacket and Turn Delta effortlessly weaved a path through Kira's DRAGOON fire. The Mars Jacket closed in, and Kira shuddered as its foe brought down one of those huge swords onto the Freedom's beam saber. "Don't think that will save you! You're only the shadow of a Newtype!"

The Mars Jacket burst forward and pushed the Freedom back with a thundering blast of its engines. Kira snapped a glance over his shoulder, finding the Turn Delta behind him and lining up for a deathblow. He swarmed his DRAGOONs around the shimmering machine, but it merely dove out of harm's way and held forward its beam saber, straight at the Freedom's back—

"_Not today!_" roared Kira, and with a shriek of protest from the Freedom's straining frame, he seized the Mars Jacket by the neck and hurled it down towards the Turn Delta. The second machine darted aside, just as Kira opened fire with his DRAGOONs. Once again, he failed to land a hit, but rocketed away and put some distance between himself and his foes.

The Turn Delta was upon him a second later, beam saber blazing, and Kira steeled himself for another swordfight.

—

"Kara Guinness, Impulse, _launching!_"

The catapult fired and Kara anxiously scanned the inky sky for signs of the battle between the Vice Marshal and the two unidentified mobile suits. One of them displayed the telltale radiation distortions of a beam wing system, but it was not the Delta Astray—so did that mean the MLA had succeeded in replicating that technology? The thought made her stomach turn. This war had been easy to fight, with the exception of that machine.

Kara eased her Force Impulse into formation next to Gary and Juarez's own units. Juarez's face appeared on the auxiliary screen.

"We're being redirected," he said. "Our new target is the _Elysium_. We will attack the enemy mothership and force a retreat."

"What?" exclaimed Gary. "But Marshal Yamato is fighting those two units!"

"Gary, don't you even start. Form up; we're attacking the _Elysium_."

—

The Strike Freedom shuddered as the Turn Delta took another swing and sent the white Gundam reeling. Kira shook his head and snapped his saber up to block his foe's follow-up attack. A moment later, the Mars Jacket dropped in with a punishing overhead sword hack that nearly took off the Freedom's right arm.

"Dammit!" Kira cried. "How can they react so quickly?"

"Feeling the pressure yet, Yamato?" Omega laughed, as the Turn Delta brought its saber down again. "Finally we have the machine that will seal your fate! Sam, show him what the Turn Delta can do!"

The Turn Delta's eyes flashed obligingly, and a moment later the black sky filled with flickering afterimages. Kira turned to his Newtype sense, desperately searching for the presence of life, but he could only focus on Omega's overwhelming pressure—and then the Freedom shuddered as the Turn Delta slashed out its Callidus cannon with a horizontal swipe. Kira backed away, deploying his railguns—only for the Turn Delta to chop off both barrels. The Freedom rocketed upward, swarming its DRAGOONs around itself; instead, the Mars Jacket let loose a barrage of beam rifle fire, forcing the DRAGOONs to break formation and putting Kira back on the defensive.

"It's like that Destiny," Kira snarled. "So fast I can't get a lock..."

The Turn Delta charged again, and Kira steeled himself. It brought its saber around for a blow towards the Freedom's head; Kira swung his saber downward, knocking his enemy's blade wide, and with a shriek of metal he sliced the Turn Delta's beam rifle in two. The rifle exploded, but the undeterred Turn Delta dove through the smoke with a second beam saber active, and Kira brought his saber back around to desperately parry both blades.

At that, the Mars Jacket swept in from behind, sword upraised. "_You're mine!_"

Kira snarled a curse and brought his DRAGOONs to bear, forcing the Mars Jacket off course. With a burst from its engines, the Turn Delta surged forward, drawing back one of its beam sabers for the kill.

"_That's it!_" Kira snapped. "_Enough!_"

The seed fell, and the Freedom roared forward and slugged the Turn Delta across the face with its left hand. The red and white mobile suit reeled backward; a moment later it rocked as the Freedom rammed its knee into the Turn Delta's chest, and brought its saber up for the kill—

Instead of the Turn Delta, the saber blade slammed down onto the Mars Jacket's sword, and Omega hurled the Freedom back. "Not today, Yamato," he snarled. "You'll have to do better than that."

The Freedom's eyes lit up with a flash, and the Gundam charged.

—

**Martian Liberation Army **_**Izumo**_**-class battleship **_**Elysium**_

He was overexerting himself again.

Howard bit back a scowl as he watched the battle on the _Elysium_'s bridge. The Astray Mars Jacket was a fine mobile suit, no doubt, but Omega Suzuki was a dying man and a dying man could not push himself too hard.

The Turn Delta, meanwhile, was truly extraordinary. It was similar to the Delta Astray—in kind, but not in degree, because the Turn Delta far outmatched the Delta Astray in performance. It twisted and turned like a shark on the hunt, and it was one of the few machines in the entire MLA roster that could claim to have drawn blood from the mighty Strike Freedom.

Howard jumped in surprise as a volley of beams sizzled past the _Elysium_'s bridge tower, far too close to have come from the battle before him. He glanced to the side just as the sensor officer identified the source—those three damned combining units.

"Murasame team, scramble!" he cried. Within seconds, the first squad of Murasames rocketed out of the _Elysium_'s hangar, arcing around towards the three charging combiners and forcing them off course. Howard snapped his gaze back towards the battle, where the Turn Delta and Mars Jacket were being held at bay by the Strike Freedom's swarming DRAGOON units.

"Sir, the _Fortuna_ is launching more mobile suits!" the sensor officer exclaimed.

Howard steeled himself and seized the intercom. "Colonel Suzuki," he said, "we're being attacked by the _Fortuna_'s combiners, and enemy reinforcements are approaching."

A derisive snort came back on the line. "Are you trying to spoil our fun here, Howard?"

"We could be killed."

"Don't tell me you're afraid of that, Howard."

"We would not be able to escort the Turn Delta to Deimos."

At last, Omega heaved a sigh. "Fine, fine. Sam, change of plans. We're retreating for now." There was a pause, and Omega assumed that baleful air he always used against the Hero of ZAFT. "You're in luck, Mr. Yamato. Consider this a taste of the Turn Delta's power."

The combat flares blazed into existence in the starry sky, and Howard watched with suppressed gratitude as the two MLA mobile suits came streaking back home.

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_

They had never seen the Strike Freedom Gundam in such pitiable condition before.

That new MLA mobile suit with the beam wings and huge yellow emitters had feasted upon the gleaming armor, and the mobile suit's surface was crisscrossed with scars from saber swipes and rifle blasts. It had been little more than a blur during the battle, but now...well, Lyle could not help but shiver in fear. If he was less than invincible...

Lyle shook the thought from his mind. It was a new machine, but it was not unstoppable, and Marshal Yamato's mobile suit had taken damage before. There was not yet reason to despair, and he resolutely turned his mind towards the impending battle at the Austral Colony. There were more important things to worry about.

"The _Elysium_'s course leads directly to Deimos," the sensor officer reported. "The _Marseille III_ freighter is following close behind."

"Let them go," said Lyle. "We have a schedule to keep."

—

Kira saw the wings of light before him as he guided his battered but faithful machine back to the _Fortuna_. They made for a worthy foe, as they had on the Destiny Gundam three years ago—and they brought back the memories and feelings of that war and all the horrors that it contained.

It was during those moments that Kira became most keenly aware of his mechanical prosthetics. Three years on, he had gotten used to the lack of sensation in his right arm and left leg, and the mechanical eye had its uses. But the scars—the scars were there every time he looked in the mirror, every time he wrapped his fingers around his Gundam's controls, every time he touched his lovely Valentine. It was maddening.

Maddening, perhaps, but he could deal with it. He would have to if the world were to change. But, as he guided the Strike Freedom into its berth, it was always there, and someday he would have to be delivered from this endless nightmare.

That new mobile suit was still there, though, and Kira's emotional problems aside, it represented an entirely different problem. The MLA had clearly figured out how to build beam wing technology. That meant this war needed to end, before the MLA became a real threat to ZAFT's carefully guarded power. That, perhaps, was why they had retreated so quickly as well. It certainly wasn't because Kira had defeated them.

Kira closed his eyes as the Freedom settled into its brace in the _Fortuna_'s hangar. The wings of light were his enemy once again, but they were not his true nemesis. Athrun Zala and Shinn Asuka and the Destiny Gundam were still waiting for him in the Earth Sphere. He flexed his mechanical right hand before him. Before he died, he would return the favor.

—

"That was kind of anticlimactic," sighed Gary Talon as the _Fortuna_'s three FAITH pilots drifted towards the locker rooms. He glanced contemptuously over his shoulder. The battle had ended almost as quickly as it had begun—as though the MLA had merely wanted to announce the existence of an indigenously designed mobile suit carrying beam wings. Then the Impulse units had launched their attack on the _Elysium_ and the whole battle came to a screeching halt, with the MLA forces promptly running away. It made no sense.

Juarez, for his part, shook his head and resolved to put it behind them. "We'll let Command figure out what that was all about," he said. "We have more important things to worry about." He glanced at his two wingmen. "I want you both to take another simulator run on the Blast Silhouette. We should have time for one more before _Jack of Diamonds_, and we need to squeeze in all the training and preparation we can."

Gary arched an eyebrow. "I thought I was going to be on the Sword Silhouette."

"It doesn't hurt to be prepared." Juarez motioned towards the lockers. "We'll meet at the simulator room at 1300 hours."

Juarez watched them both go and fought back the sinking feeling in his stomach that something would happen at Austral for which he could not prepare them. He thought back to the vicious Battle of Solomon's Sword, and knew that no training could have prepared him for what he had seen there. And Kara and Gary, experienced as they were in combat, had little experience in that special sort of ferocity that marked an all-out battle. Perhaps if Austral surrendered, the carnage could be avoided...but nobody really believed that the Austral Colony would wave the white flag.

At that, Juarez merely shook his head and pushed off after them, towards the locker rooms. They would have to learn sometime.

—

**Martian Liberation Army **_**Izumo**_**-class battleship **_**Elysium**_**, en route to Deimos**

Brooding in his chair on the bridge and staring out the windows into the emptiness of space, Omega Suzuki ran over the previous battle in his mind, abortive as it was. He and the Turn Delta had put Yamato on the ropes, but ultimately Howard's judgment was correct. A retreat was the wiser choice, carrying the Turn Delta and Ceti XIII's other toys to Deimos, where Omega suspected his real showdown with Yamato would take place. There the Mars Jacket could be completed and then he would have the true sword he needed to exact his revenge.

Unfortunately, that meant he had to miss the battle at Austral. Not that it would have made a difference militarily, of course—the Austral Colony was isolated from its allies and the full weight of ZAFT and the ZMA's power was swinging down upon it. But lost opportunities were vexing to a man who had not the time to wait for another.

He reached out with his senses and found the flickering presence of Sam Janelin, his ersatz wingman in the battle against the Strike Freedom. He had done what few other pilots could claim and drawn figurative blood from ZAFT's gleaming warrior-angel, but all in all Omega felt a tinge of disappointment about the great Shooting Star Janelin. He was a good pilot, but deep down Omega could not help but feel that the Turn Delta's true potential and true prowess were meant for another man—for, perhaps, Agnes Brahe.

Omega smirked. Not that Agnes Brahe would be getting his hands on the Turn Delta, of course. He was effectively trapped at the Austral Colony, and would likely be annihilated with the rest of them. That was a pity, really, for so talented a pilot to be eradicated, but there was nothing Omega could do about it. The _Elysium_ and her forces would not change the tide of this war, and Austral was really just a sacrifice to complete Vargas's master weapon.

Yes, it all worked out well. Agnes and his colony would be destroyed, and that was unfortunate. But then ZAFT would turn its attention towards Deimos, towards the Beelzebub Array, towards Vargas—and then Omega would have his perfect battle.

—

**Martian Liberation Army Headquarters, Deimos**

The target was Ceti II, an abandoned asteroid mine hollowed out and stripped of its useful ores years ago. It occupied a curious position among the scientific art of asteroid installations: too small for use as a military installation, too big to break up in an economically feasible way. None of Mars's warring armies had any real use for it, which meant it was just a big, empty rock, drifting in space, waiting to meet its fate.

Standing in the Deimos control room with a wicked grin on his face, Vargas glanced across the screen at Ceti II's fate. The Beelzebub Array was complete. Now to test it.

"Charge is complete," one of the deckhands reported. "Internal temperature is stabilized. We're ready to fire."

At Vargas's side, the skeletal old Admiral Keller cast an inquisitive glance towards the MLA's leader. Vargas uncrossed his arms.

"The Technical Division says that the Array should blow that rock to smithereens," he said. "So let's find out." He raised his hand with a flourish, and relished the moment. "Beelzebub Array, _fire!_"

The huge mass of the Beelzebub Array flickered for a moment, drawing in its solar energy cells, and a sphere of light flashed into existence at the center of the machine. Blinding light flooded the control room, the flickering sphere at the center expanded, and with a blaze, it lanced out towards Ceti II.

Vargas broke into a grin as Ceti II exploded in a shining ball of fire.

"_Perfect!_" he cackled. Only a cloud of dust and bits of rock and scrap metal remained. "It's _perfect!_ Yes, surely it can destroy colonies if it can do _that!_" He whirled around towards Keller. "Get the positron reflectors online and recall our fleets to home space. We are going to end this war."

—

**Austral Colony, Charitum Montes, Mars**

"We're going to die here, aren't we?" asked Sars.

Gard turned around sharply, hearing Sars despite the din of the hangar as the mechanics feverishly worked on their Daggers. "Wha—what makes you think that?"

"Vanfeldt said so."

"Vanfeldt's an idiot. Don't listen to him." He shook his head. "Assuming that you're going to die in the next battle just makes it certain that you will. Fight to survive instead." He offered a smile. "I'll be out there with you, so you won't have to worry too much. I'll have your back."

Sars smiled back weakly. "I know. Thanks." He glanced towards his trusty Dagger. "Hoskin says we'll be outnumbered three to one."

"But we'll be the defenders in this battle," Gard pointed out, "and ZAFT never commits many forces to these battles. Austral Colony's garrison can take them."

Sars looked unconvinced, and Gard held back a sigh, wishing he could make even himself believe what he was saying.

—

The loyal and reliable Slaughter Dagger locked back into place with a crash, and at the controls of the crane loading the ammo, Vanfeldt cracked a grin. The coming battle was going to be _fun_. Skirmishes were okay, but an all-out epic battle like the one brewing at the Austral Colony was just the sort of slugfest that Vanfeldt loved.

Technically, that had gotten him in trouble. He'd been one of many Mafia hitmen back in the Earth Sphere, and had the misfortune of getting caught—before Lord Djibril came along and offered him his life in exchange for his service on Mars. Vanfeldt didn't mind too much. The three-month trip out here had been maddening, but now he had a Slaughter Dagger to play with, and made sure it lived up to the prefix of its name. It was nothing personal—he couldn't give a shit how this war ended either way—but the MLA fixed up his Dagger for him and let him tear stuff up, and that was pretty fun.

Of course, it wasn't _all_ fun and games. They persisted in giving him "objectives," "orders," and "discipline," which was why they had put Gard in charge of the crew. Gard had an annoying habit of spoiling Vanfeldt's fun, but other than that, he couldn't say he really minded the taciturn young ex-Orb officer. Besides, being in charge meant you had to be responsible, and Vanfeldt would have none of that. He just wanted to fight and kill and destroy and have _fun_.

Vanfeldt glanced over his trusty Dagger. It was a fine machine, but its age was beginning to show. Djibril had claimed it was fresh off the assembly lines, but it had the sort of quirks and curiosities that only appeared in a machine that had already seen decent frontline use. He idly turned his thoughts towards the machines that the Technical Division was supposedly building. Rumor had it that they were beyond even ZAFT's mighty Strike Freedom.

Vanfeldt licked his lips eagerly. Now _there_ was some fun.

—

A scattering of the men of Austral Colony's defense force stood at attention before him, as Agnes Brahe stood on the hangar gantry with his arms behind his back. Technically, he was not the officer in charge of this force, but he was the Austral Colony's ace pilot and its brightest star—so it fell to him to carry out the daunting task of trying to inspire these men.

"Mars is no place for useless people," he began, and the hangar went still. "That is our mantra. Our creed. The sustaining principle that has kept us alive and prosperous in the unforgiving world of the Martian colonies. Even where the Coordinators of the Earth Sphere were wiped out in a foolish war, we have survived and persevered against death itself. Our society is perfectly adapted to this harsh environment. Our way is the only way for Martians to survive and thrive."

He paused to choose his words. "Now we have to defend our way of life," he said, "because make no mistake, that is precisely what ZAFT intends to destroy. They are coming with their dogs in the ZMA ahead of them. They want to destroy us because we represent the prosperity and progress that they denied themselves. They were foolish and got themselves destroyed in foolish wars with the Naturals in the Earth Sphere. Now they're here, and they see our prosperity and it angers them, because they could have had it too—and they still could, if only they weren't wrapped up in their greed and vengeance.

"But that's not why they're coming here," he went on. "They're coming to destroy us. We, who have worked so hard to build a thriving and successful Martian colony, know the secret lies in engineering the perfect society at the genetic level. In this world of conflict and strife, our colony is our sanctuary—and now ZAFT is trying to take it away from us! They brought us war and suffering and strife, and if we don't stop them know, that is all we'll ever know!"

He thrust his fist into the air.

"Fight for our people, for our home, for our sanctuary, for our way, and _throw ZAFT into the dust!_"

The men screamed their approval, and Agnes forced down his doubt. Whether or not the Austral Colony itself would survive was irrelevant, because it would not die.

—

**November 22nd, CE 76 - ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_**, orbit of Mars**

It was the largest force ZAFT had yet mustered in this miserable Martian War, and Admiral Harkill was moderately proud to see it in action. Two _Nazca_-class destroyers, four _Laurasia_-class frigates, and three _Maya_-class dropships came to a halt, with the _Fortuna_ at the center. Standing tall on the _Fortuna_'s bridge with his officers surrounding him, Harkill turned his eyes towards the fleet, such as it was. The six _Marseille III_ freighters of the ZMA opened their doors and the ZMA's mobile suit force began to drop towards Mars, each unit equipped with an atmospheric reentry shield.

Harkill stepped forward. "Operation _Jack of Diamonds_ will now commence. All units assume your positions and begin mobile suit drop procedures at once."

The _Fortuna_ rattled as the catapult doors swung open. Harkill glanced back towards the dropships, their reentry pods disconnecting themselves and heading towards Mars. He held back a smile. The endgame had begun.

—

Kara settled back in the Force Impulse Gundam's cockpit seat and eased the machine into formation with the rest of the ZAFT units descending on Mars. Even though it was easy enough, she never enjoyed atmospheric reentry—and recalled that it was even worse in the thicker atmosphere of Earth. The Impulse set its shield in front of its body and began its descent.

She glanced around the cockpit. She had but a single task—to support Marshal Yamato in combat and serve as one of his wingmen. Easily said, not so easily done. Once he got into a groove, the Marshal was a force of nature on the battlefield, and it was all Kara could do to just keep up with him, let alone _protect_ him. As if he even needed it.

"Kara, Gary," Juarez's voice interrupted. "ZMA scouts reporting tracer fire. We're gonna be in the shit about as soon as we hit the thermosphere. Brace yourselves."

Gary answered with only a derisive snort. "What the hell can they hit two hundred kilometers up?"

"They're launching missiles. Stay on guard."

The screen went dark, and Kara took in a deep breath. There were already a few flashes of fire down below—where she suspected the ZMA vanguard troops were already running into the Austral Colony's defense screen. Of course Austral would not go down without a fight.

But they had created that damned Delta Astray, and they had birthed Agnes Brahe, and they had that evil genetic caste system. Even if ZAFT turned its guns on Vargas and finished the MLA off for good, the Austral Colony would keep fighting, for the sake of their abominable little "way of life."

Kara narrowed her eyes at the flashes of fire below. They would get in the way of ZAFT's exacting of justice...so they would have to die.

—

"Beginning reentry process. Radio blackout begins now."

In the rattling cockpit of the Strike Freedom Gundam, Kira sat back and switched off his radio. Atmospheric reentry on Mars was less stressful and difficult than on Earth, but it still required precise calculation and course correction to ensure he landed at Charitum Montes and not somewhere halfway across the planet. But now it was out of his hands. He was on direct course for the Austral Colony, along with his troops...and now it was just a matter of waiting until he joined the battle.

He shook his head to dispel the demons. "Thunderclap" rang still in his mind. He could have no doubt or hesitation; his troops depended on him. The Austral Colony was despised; no one would miss it, as evidenced by the fact that no one had come to its aid; nuclear annihilation was, sadly, not even the worst fate possible for Austral's citizens. At least it would be quick.

Before him floated the specter of the Delta Astray, his persevering nemesis in this miserable little war. ZAFT and ZMA troops derisively called him the Hero of Mars, and he was the Austral Colony's ace, said to have been bred to lead in their horrible little system. He was the finest they had produced—and yet Kira himself knew better. He too, after all, was supposed to be the most perfect Coordinator ever produced—and yet look at him now, charging into battle and finding mercy in the use of nuclear weapons on civilians.

Perfection. What a joke. Nobody was perfect. That was why he had these metal limbs. That was why he led this army of exiles. That was why Agnes Brahe and his men were left alone against the might of ZAFT and the ZMA. And that, Kira knew, was why he would have to be strong—for the others.

—

**ZAFT **_**Eternal**_**-class cruiser **_**Deliverance**_**, orbit of Mars**

The air was thick with the tension of a battle about to begin. Already there were some men fighting and dying, but as the combined army of ZAFT and the ZMA had not yet collided on the battlefield with the defenders of the Austral Colony, that sickening expectation would hover still in the air like a foul, invisible cloud.

On the bridge of the _Deliverance_, Captain Davis turned that thought over in his mind, absently brushing dust from his immaculate White-Shirt uniform. He had the dirty jobs in this war and under Marshal Sunogachi's stewardship—but why _be_ dirty?

He considered his latest dirty job, the nuclear warhead "liberated" from the Earth Alliance almost three years ago and now resting in the _Deliverance_'s cargo hold, waiting for the word to come through. He was under strict orders to fire the thing only at Marshal Yamato's command. He was allowed no latitude to decide, except to retreat and preserve the warhead if his ship came under attack. And among this army and this fleet and these hundreds of thousands of pairs of eyes, he would bear witness to the last great test of Marshal Yamato's willingness to bow to necessity.

That was how Marshal Sunogachi had put it. "Thunderclap" was his test, to see if he had the mettle to carry out the horrors that ZAFT would inflict upon the Earth Sphere. Every action in the plan had its purpose, of course—violence without purpose was simply waste, of blood and of resources, after all—but to carry them out would require the same firm hand and cold mind that would utter the word and destroy Austral Colony in nuclear fire. ZAFT's return in the Earth Sphere would be as Armageddon, and Kira Yamato as the Four Horsemen themselves, together in one man.

The flashes of fire down on the Martian surface lit up, and Davis sat back as the battle began.

—

To be continued...


	7. Phase 07: The Battle of Austral Colony

Mobile Suit Gundam SEED DESTINY - Red Planet

—

Phase 07 - The Battle of Austral Colony

—

**November 22nd, CE 76 - Skies of Mars**

Kira Yamato winced at the feeling of death, all around him, among those fiery puffs of smoke and debris dotting the Martian sky. The Austral Colony's defenders had sharpened their aim, though it was only the ZMA troops who had incurred any losses so far. But Kira still felt their deaths, and they fueled his determination to end this fight without activating the Thunderclap.

Around his trusted Strike Freedom, the ZAFT drop pods broke open and the _Fortuna_'s three Impulse units fell into formation around him. There were already ZMA troops on the surface, fighting for control of footholds around the colony itself. Kira steeled himself and deployed the beam shields as the colony's beam cannons opened fire on his troops. He glanced back at his three Impulse wingmen.

"We're moving down ahead of the main force," he ordered. "Arnhalt's men are taking a beating. We're going to clear out what we can before they touch down."

"We'll be moving ahead of our fire support, sir," Juarez cautioned.

Kira smiled with what he hoped was reassurance. "You're our fire support, Juarez. Move out!"

—

The catapult activated, the Delta Astray's engines roared to life, and Agnes Brahe swallowed his anxiety as the red and white mobile suit lunged into the fight. Somewhere the Strike Freedom was up there, he knew, and they would have to settle their battle here. The sky was alive with firepower and the ZMA troops were already incurring frightful losses—but, Agnes noted grimly, ZAFT had kept its contribution to this assault behind the ZMA landing force, letting their allies do the bulk of the dying. That was just like them—and that was what the ZMA got for siding with these invaders. Traitors commanded no one's respect.

Agnes threw a switch in the Delta Astray's cockpit. "Nahe, get the _Acidalium_ airborne," he said. "Use the positron cannon to pick off concentrations of troops as they come down."

"Right," Nahe said, and paused to give out the order to the bridge crew. "But we're going to be vulnerable."

"It can't be helped. Keep yourself in position." Agnes cut the line and scanned the skies again. He zoomed in on one mobile suit, moving faster than the others, almost too fast for its wingmen to keep up—and he narrowed his eyes at the gleaming white armor of the Strike Freedom Gundam. "There you are, Kira Yamato. Don't go too far now—we've got a score to settle!"

The Delta Astray vaulted into the sky and ignited its Voiture Lumiere with a flash.

—

Kara grunted as the impact shook through her machine, all the way into her brain, when her Force Impulse landed with a crash on the Martian soil. She looked up as her Impulse got to its feet, staring down a trio of Civilian Astrays—which themselves were blown apart by a volley of beam cannon blasts, and Juarez's Blast Impulse came down next, with Gary's Sword Impulse close behind.

"If our maps are right," Juarez began, "there should be a disused mine near here."

"Like they didn't seal it off," snorted Gary. He glanced to the side sharply. "Daggers, incoming! Three o'clock!"

The three Impulse units darted apart as a quartet of Strike Daggers lunged out of nowhere with beam rifles blazing. Juarez leveled off his beam cannons and opened fire, blowing two of the Daggers away; Kara charged forward with Gary at her side, and the two Impulse units rocketed to the sides as the surviving Daggers squeezed off a volley of their own. Kara whirled around and speared one of the Daggers on a rifle blast; Gary did the same, and the two Impulse units landed amid the wreckage of their foes.

"One click north," Juarez said. "We'll try our luck there—"

"No we won't," Kara interrupted. "Black Daggers inbound, one o'clock!"

Juarez snapped a glare towards the sky. "_Them_ again?"

One of the Daggers leveled off its huge "Agni" cannon and opened fire, forcing the Impulse units apart. "Well then," Juarez grunted, "never mind. Engage and destroy them!"

—

"You and me now, swordfighter!" cackled Vanfeldt as his Slaughter Dagger whirled around, beam rifle in hand, taking on the Sword Impulse Gundam. "Those heavy swords might have more mass, but that doesn't mean shit if you can't hit me!"

The Sword Impulse stashed its rifle and drew both of its Excalibur swords, and then charged forward with a powerful downward swing. Vanfeldt darted to the side, firing at the Impulse's exposed back. The Gundam whipped around to slap the shots aside with its shield, and the Dagger charged forward, switching its beam rifle out for a saber. The blade crashed down against the Impulse's shield; Vanfeldt hopped up over the Impulse's sweeping horizontal counterattack, and swung down again, deflected by the Impulse's right-hand sword.

"Not bad," Vanfeldt chuckled, "but you can't move those heavy swords fast enough!"

The Dagger surged forward, beam saber held aloft. The Impulse deflected another stroke and swung its left-hand sword towards the Dagger's waist; instead, Vanfeldt vaulted his Dagger back into the air and seized the opportunity. With a blast of its thrusters on its back and its chest, the Dagger spun itself around in midair and whipped a butterfly kick across the Impulse's face.

Vanfeldt cackled victoriously as his Dagger landed. "Ha! Didn't think I could do _that_, did you, bitch?"

The Impulse seemed to collect itself for a moment, before hefting its swords and plunging back into the fight.

—

Smoke rose up around the Force Impulse Gundam as Waid pummeled it with shellfire from his IWSP Slaughter Dagger. Next to him, Hoskin's Sword Slaughter Dagger came down with a crash, its Schwert Gewehr sword drawn and ready.

"Shake him up a bit more," Hoskin instructed, "and I'll go in for the kill."

Waid cracked a grin. "You got it." He leveled off the cannons for another salvo—

Instead, the Impulse blasted out of the smoke and charged straight forward towards the IWSP Dagger. Waid pulled up the controls, yelping in surprise—but a moment later, the Sword Dagger darted in front of him and, with a punishing overhead sword swing, smacked the Impulse back. Hoskin leapt aside again, and Waid opened fire with another shell burst to throw the Impulse back behind its shield.

"Now to get rid of that rifle," muttered Hoskin, and the Sword Dagger somersaulted up over Waid's field of fire. The Impulse instinctively jetted to its left as Hoskin landed, and Waid nailed it head-on with another shell burst—just long enough for the Sword Dagger to fire its Panzer Eisen anchor, clamp it onto the Impulse's rifle, and tear the weapon out of the Gundam's hand, hurling it away.

"Oh, _nice!_" Waid laughed, watching the Impulse leap back and draw a beam saber. "Man, are they slow today or are we just getting more awesome?"

"Don't let down your guard," Hoskin shot back. "Continue fire!"

—

"We have him cornered!" cried Gard, his Lightning Slaughter Windam rumbling as it fired another shot from the electromagnetic cannon. "Sars, now's your chance!"

Sars' Launcher Slaughter Dagger leveled off its Agni cannon and fired—only for the Blast Impulse Gundam to swerve to the side, letting the shimmering red beam pulse by its shoulder, and returned fire in spades with its two long range cannons. Sars threw her Dagger towards the dirt, dodging both blasts. Gard lined up his rifle again and put a shell right between the Impulse's eyes, throwing it back with a satisfying crash.

"You alright in there?" Gard called. Sars nodded quietly as she got her Dagger back to its feet, and Gard glanced back at the Blast Impulse. "I can't damage him with the electromag cannon, I can only knock him around. You'll have to fire the finishing shot."

"I understand," Sars answered.

"Don't worry," Gard added with a reassuring grin. "I've got your back."

The Blast Impulse flashed its eyes and drew its two beam javelins, slamming them together at the ends and igniting the blades. Gard steeled himself and threw his Dagger to the right as the Impulse charged forward with a stab, and then vaulted skyward as his foe whirled around to fire its railguns.

"Get around him!" Gard barked. "I'll draw his attention!"

—

Afterimages flashed around the Strike Freedom as the Delta Astray rushed in close, katana raised. Kira ground his teeth and jammed his beam saber into the blade's path, stopping it cold. The Delta Astray surged forward, kneeing the Freedom in the stomach; in the cockpit, Agnes narrowed his eyes and charged forward to stab at the Freedom's chest. Kira slapped the blade aside and charged up the Callidus cannon—the Delta Astray darted to the side, letting the Freedom's beam pass through only an afterimage.

"You may think you've got us cornered, Yamato, but we're going to drag you to hell with us first!" Agnes screamed. Kira scowled back, watching the Delta Astray close in again with another sword stroke. "Don't think the Austral Colony will go down without a fight!"

"You've got a lot of nerve to defend that system of yours!" Kira snapped back. The Freedom vaulted up over the Delta Astray's killing stab and somersaulted down behind the red and white machine. Agnes snarled a curse and whipped around, smacking aside the Freedom's saber stroke with its katana.

"Don't question things you don't understand, Yamato," Agnes shot back. "Mars is no place for useless people!" The Delta Astray charged again, katana held high, and flung the Freedom back with a powerful overhead swing.

"And you _made_ them useless!" Kira cried. The Freedom jetted aside to dodge another stab and whirled around towards the Delta Astray's exposed back. The Delta Astray turned and the blades crashed together. "They can only do one thing now! You took away their freedom!"

The Delta Astray swung its knee up into the Freedom's chest. "_There is no freedom on Mars!_" Agnes roared. "Freedom is a privilege for people who live in security, and we do not! Mars takes no prisoners! And today, _neither do I!_"

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_**, orbit of Mars**

Lyle hated being up here, separate from the battle, separate from Vice Marshal Yamato, separate from everything important. It was inappropriate for the leader to go rushing headlong into battle; courting disaster, really.

"Move Dyson's team up by three hundred meters," Harkill ordered from over Lyle's shoulder. The captain glanced up at the aging admiral. He had thrown himself into the most minute details of the battle plan, and now he was shuffling units forward and back as breaches and strongholds developed in the Austral Colony's defenses. So far there had been no breakthrough, and Lyle was growing anxious. Perhaps they had been mistaken to rely so heavily on ZMA regulars and so little on seasoned ZAFT troops.

At that, Lyle glanced up at the tactical map on the _Fortuna_'s auxiliary screen. Wherever the enemy's defense had been penetrated, it had been done by ZAFT units leading ZMA troops behind them. It was disgraceful—beyond disgraceful. And they called themselves soldiers.

But there was, nevertheless, something missing. Wherever Marshal Yamato and his three wingmen went, they usually left a gaping hole in enemy lines—but not this time. This time the units were scattered, and the Strike Freedom seemed to be fighting a foe that could only be that damned Delta Astray.

Lyle thought about that, and brooded as Harkill barked his orders.

—

The Impulse quaked under another shell salvo, and Kara cast a nervous glance towards her shield. It could stand up to dozens of beam impacts, but solid shells were a different matter, and she was hoping it wasn't starting to break.

She snapped out of her thoughts as the Sword Slaughter Dagger charged towards her, sword drawn back, and lunged into the red sky over its horizontal sweep. The IWSP Dagger opened fire again—this time Kara threw her mobile suit to the side, cursing inwardly that carelessness that had allowed the Sword Dagger to deprive her of her rifle.

"I think it's time I take something of yours, pal!" she growled. The Sword Dagger came around for another attack, and Kara seized her opportunity.

Throwing the throttle wide open, Kara rammed the Dagger bodily with the Impulse's shoulder, stunning her foe just long enough to sweep her beam saber in an upward arc, slicing the Dagger's sword blade off just below the hilt. She brought her saber down for the kill, but too late—the Dagger's pilot recovered and jammed its left arm into the saber's path, deflecting its killing stroke, and then leapt backwards for the safety of distance. Kara vaulted back into the air with a curse as the IWSP Dagger opened fire again.

—

Juarez bit back a shout as the shells slammed against his battered Impulse unit's Phase Shift armor. It could stop that Lightning Dagger's electromag shells, yes, but not without knocking him around inside—and Juarez was getting quite tired of that. The Launcher Dagger lined up for another Agni cannon blast, forcing the Impulse back on the defensive.

"You may think you have me cornered," he scowled, "but I've got more tricks up my sleeve than just that!"

The Launcher Dagger opened fire again, forcing the Blast Impulse to vault into the air, where the Lightning Dagger pounded it head-on with another electromag shell. Juarez threw his machine back towards the ground, dodging the Launcher Dagger's finishing blast, and landed with a crash on the Martian surface, seeing his chance—

Faster than his foe could react, Juarez fired the Blast Silhouette's railguns—not at the two Daggers but at the ground in front of them, throwing up a massive pall of dust. He sprang forward, beam javelin in hand and blade shining to life, and with a scream put the blade directly through the Dagger's cockpit.

Fatally wounded, the Dagger threw sparks and smoke, and Juarez reclaimed his javelin and backed away as it finally exploded. He turned his eyes towards the Lightning Dagger.

"And you're next."

—

Gary Talon hated persistent enemies, and whoever was piloting this goddamn Slaughter Dagger had persistence in _spades_.

He watched in frustration as it somersaulted over his sweeping sword swing, lining up for another butterfly kick. This time Gary would not be caught off guard and his Sword Impulse crouched low, letting the Dagger's leg sweep by over his head. With the Slaughter Dagger wide open in front of him, he charged forward with a scream and brought down his left-hand sword—

And, naturally, the Dagger whirled around with a second saber in its off-hand, blade shining to life and blocking the Impulse's downward hack.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," he grunted, "throw me a bone here!"

The Sword Impulse jumped back to dodge as the Slaughter Dagger swiped at the Gundam's waist with its right-hand saber. For a moment he considered calling the _Fortuna_ for a Force Silhouette, since clearly the heavy Excalibur swords were not getting the job done—but the Slaughter Dagger charged again, forcing him to awkwardly parry its two sabers with both of his massive blades. No, that plan wouldn't work—no cover to change the Silhouette packs.

With a dual downward hack, the Slaughter Dagger brought both its sabers down onto the Impulse's two sword blades, almost driving Gary back with the sheer force from its Aile Striker pack. Gary sneered up at his dark-armored foe. "Well," he muttered, "guess I have no choice."

Gary hurled the Dagger back with a forceful swing from his swords, and it skidded to a halt in the red Martian dust, beam sabers blazing a brilliant gold.

"I had been hoping to save this little technique for a more worthy opponent than _you_," he snarled, "but if that's how you wanna play..."

Echoing across the Martian plains, the Sword Impulse brought both of its Excalibur swords together at the pommels, then swung them back and twirled the massive double blade over its head. With a final crash, it brought the sword back down and pointed one of its ends straight at the almost surprised-looking Slaughter Dagger.

Gary narrowed his eyes. "Come and get me."

—

"As worthy a fight as always, Yamato," growled Agnes in the Delta Astray's cockpit, fixing a hateful stare into the Strike Freedom's golden eyes, "but you're still not leaving here alive!"

Kira cast a disdainful glance at the young Coordinator. "I've heard _that_ before."

Agnes yelped in surprise as the Freedom suddenly kneed the Delta Astray hard in the chest, and then followed up with a left hook to the Gundam's face that rattled the entire machine. Agnes snarled a curse and fired the thrusters, lunging up just as the Freedom fired a railgun and Callidus blast at its stricken foe.

Screaming all the while, Agnes came back down with a crash, slamming his sword down onto the Freedom's saber blade and hurling the white mobile suit back. He followed with another sword stroke, and another, both parried by the Freedom, and darted aside as it fired its Callidus cannon again.

"You could have always surrendered!" Kira snapped; the Delta Astray's reply came only in the form of a punishing horizontal hack from its sword, stopped cold by the Freedom's beam saber. "None of this would have happened if you hadn't started this war!"

"Don't give me _that!_" Agnes shot back. "I know what you've done with the ZMA, and the colonies you conquered from us! You're making them your slaves, for your little holy war back in the Earth Sphere!"

Kira's face twitched with anger for an instant. "Wasn't it you who said this," he growled. "'Don't question things you don't understand!'" The Freedom reared back and pounded the Delta Astray across the face with another left hook. "You don't know what it's like to watch Blue Cosmos _murder your people!_" He sent the Delta Astray reeling with a powerful saber swipe. "You don't know what it's like to watch your hopes and dreams disintegrate before your very eyes!" Another saber swipe pounded against the Delta Astray's sword, forcing it back further. "You don't know what it's like for your whole world to burn away in an instant!" With a final crash, the Freedom brought down its saber onto the Delta Astray's sword, locking both mobile suits into a struggle. "_Nothing_ in this pathetic farce of a war could _ever_ compare to _that! You've never felt that!_"

As his words rang in his ears, Kira stared furiously into Agnes's eyes on the auxiliary screen, and painfully remembered the word.

_But at this rate, you _will_..._

—

**Martian Liberation Army destroyer **_**Acidalium**_

"Positron cannon, _fire!_"

Sitting on the _Acidalium_'s bridge, Nahe watched with a small measure of gratitude as his ship's positron cannon flashed to life, putting a pulsing red beam in the center of a cluster of ZMA mobile suits on the ground. They vanished in a thundering fireball, and Nahe gripped his chair's armrests as the shockwave hit the _Acidalium_ an instant later.

The battle was going well. Unnervingly well, in fact. The Austral Colony's line had largely held so far, and with his ship's help, every breach had been filled and salient sliced off the enemy's forces. The defenders had the incalculable advantages of terrain and fighting from static, protected positions, but Nahe was surprised that the ZMA and ZAFT were struggling so much.

So much, in fact, that there must have been something else afoot.

But the intel had nothing of any hint that ZAFT had a different plan than what was unfolding here at Charitum Montes. There were three ZAFT dropships, several ZMA freighters, and a small fleet of warships and support ships orbiting the planet overhead. If they still had something up their sleeves, they had hidden it well.

Nahe forced down the doubt. "Move us to sector N1," he said. "Another gap is developing. We're going to plug it."

—

The Lightning Dagger pounded another salvo of shells into the battered Blast Impulse. Gard clenched his fists around the controls in fury, not waiting for the smoke to clear before firing again.

"You think I'm just going to let you get away?" he snarled. "After what you just did?"

The smoke burst apart and the Blast Impulse dove to the side as the Lightning Dagger fired again.

"_You killed Sars!_"

Gard snapped his gaze to the sky as his alarms blared, and gasped in surprise as a volley of missiles came down around him. The Lightning Striker shuddered and Gard realized with a curse that it was taking damage—too much damage to the power system for the electromag cannon to be useful. Staggering to the side in the smoke to dodge the Impulse's killing shot, he dropped the cannon and drew a beam saber, turning towards his black and white enemy.

"I let her down," he growled, "but I can still kill you!"

The Blast Impulse raised its cannons again; Gard threw his mobile suit forward with a massive blast of exhaust, then whirled around and ejected the Lightning Striker, sending it hurtling straight towards the Gundam. With a crash, he whipped around again, igniting his saber and slashing the Striker pack in two. The sparking pieces crashed into the Blast Impulse and exploded directly in its face, throwing it backward—and Gard's Dagger came barreling through the smoke, slamming its saber down onto the Impulse's shield.

"You're not getting away from me, you son of a bitch!" Gard screamed. "Now _die!_"

—

Beam sabers clashed as the Force Impulse and Sword Dagger fought a vicious swordfight across the Martian surface. The IWSP Dagger interrupted it with a ruthless shell salvo—but a moment later, the Impulse charged out of the smoke and sliced the Dagger's beam rifle in two.

"Hey!" Waid shouted, backing away and punching the Impulse back with another shell volley. "What the hell, man?"

"I told you not to let him get so close," Hoskin grunted, and the Sword Dagger paused long enough to hurl its beam boomerang into the smoke. It went clattering out to the right as the Impulse smacked it aside with its shield, and leapt up over another salvo from the IWSP Dagger. "He's lost his rifle; he can't last forever in a saber match." The Impulse crashed down onto the Martian ground, beam saber in hand and glowering at its two opponents. Hoskin cast a glance towards his comrade. "I'll distract him with another saber round; you flank him and we'll finish him off."

"Right!" Waid said with a grin.

The Dagger charged towards the Impulse and slashed at it vigorously, driving the white Gundam back. The saber blades met with a crash, and Waid leveled off his guns to fire—

...just as the Impulse surged forward, seizing the Sword Dagger by the shoulder with its left hand and dragging its enemy into Waid's line of fire. The shell burst struck the Dagger's back squarely, blowing off its head and left arm, and before Waid could even fully realize what had happened, the Impulse victoriously drove its saber through the mutilated Dagger's cockpit.

The Impulse turned with flashing green eyes as the dead Dagger collapsed in a heap and exploded, and Waid felt his blood boil.

"Hoskin," he growled, "oh, you son of a bitch! No mercy!"

The IWSP Dagger drew both of its swords and charged.

—

Vanfeldt cursed as the Sword Impulse came at him again, twirling those two damned swords expertly on its fingertips and smacking him around like a child. He stabbed forward with his left-hand saber, hoping to catch it unprepared—but instead the whirling blades sent his saber clattering out of his mobile suit's hand, and it was all he could do to throw the Dagger backward and avoid the spinning blades.

"Cute trick, buddy, but it's wearing thin already," he growled. "And I've got a few of my own!"

The Impulse slammed the Dagger's remaining beam saber and sent the whole mobile suit reeling. Vanfeldt put it back on its feet and quietly thanked whichever engineer had decided to equip the Slaughter Dagger with four beam sabers instead of two.

As the Impulse charged again, Vanfeldt drew another saber with his Dagger's left hand, ignited it, and hurled it straight at the charging red Gundam. It pulled its sword up to parry, but too late—the blade swept through the hand-guard and grip on the lower sword, slicing the whole blade off cleanly and sending it sailing off the battlefield.

Vanfeldt cracked a grin at the Impulse, which looked almost frustrated as it ejected what was left of the second sword and hefted the remaining one.

"Surprise."

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_**, orbit of Mars**

"No, I said move Lopez's team to sector seven!" Harkill barked, amid the growing confusion and fury on the _Fortuna_'s bridge. This was not going nearly as well as he'd planned. The ZMA force had sustained almost thirty-three percent casualties; the ZAFT forces had already lost almost a dozen mobile suits; and still the Austral Colony's defenses held. At this point in the plan they were supposed to have begun corridor-by-corridor fighting inside the colony proper—but at this rate they wouldn't have any troops _left_ when—or if—they forced open the defending lines.

"Sir," one of his aides spoke up, "Lopez's team is reporting that they're pinned by enemy fire and can't advance."

Harkill thought for a moment. "Then send Eller's team to cover them."

"Impossible, sir. Eller's team is pinned down too."

At that, Harkill stared down in disbelief at the tactical map. How was this even _possible?_ Were Arnhalt's troops just _that bad?_

"Captain, we've got heat signatures at seven o'clock!" the sensor officer cried, and all eyes snapped towards him—

Outside the _Fortuna_'s bridge windows, Harkill watched in utter disbelief as two pulsing red beams slammed head-on into one of the ZMA _Marseille III _ships, blasting it to pieces in one thunderous blow. A wave of beam fire came directly on its heels, taking down another two ZMA ships, and Lyle in the captain's chair turned towards the sensor officer in alarm.

"Identify it, now! What the hell was that?"

"Heat signatures matching five _Marseille III_ freighters and one _Izumo_ battleship, sir! It looks like the Austral Colony's space fleet!"

Harkill blanched—the Austral space fleet was supposed to be at Deimos as part of the MLA's combined fleet. What the hell were they doing back here?

"Enemy mobile suits are launching!"

Lyle pounded a fist on his armrest. "Launch our own forces! Contact the Vice Marshal!" He turned towards Harkill. "Admiral, we're going to need the rest of the fleet to get moving. And we're going to have to pull troops off the surface. If those freighters are full, then we're going to need everything we can get just to defend the dropships."

For a moment, Harkill looked back down at the tactical map. Well, damn that all, it wasn't working out anyway.

"Get the fleet moving and launching its mobile suits," he ordered. "And I'll contact the Vice Marshal."

—

"Marshal, sir," Harkill's gravelly voice broke through the heat of battle, "we've got a problem."

Kira spared the briefest of glances towards his auxiliary screen, where Harkill's grim face could be seen in what looked like the _Fortuna_'s darkening, descending bridge. That was not a good sign. He turned his eyes back towards the Delta Astray. "On top of all the other ones?"

"The Austral Colony's space fleet has arrived. Five _Marseille III_ freighters are launching mobile suits. We can't hold out against numbers like that. We're going to have to abort the attack."

The Delta Astray brought its sword down again; Kira smacked it aside with his beam saber. He desperately wracked his brain for a solution. ZAFT could not afford to lose this battle; it could not afford to leave the Austral Colony standing, a symbol of successful resistance against ZAFT and a stronghold no matter what happened to Vargas and the MLA's main force at Deimos. His fight with the Delta Astray had been distracting, but he knew that the battle had gone poorly. There had been no breakthroughs. The ZMA troops were too ill-disciplined, ill-trained, and ill-equipped, he supposed, to have led this assault; and the ZAFT troops had been too few to pick up the slack.

_Thunderclap_, he thought.

But they would all die. But he thought of what he, he himself, had said to Kayla before this battle—that even if they lived, even if ZAFT somehow turned this battle around and captured the colony, its citizens would still carry the indelible stamp of Austral's genetic caste system. He knew that. He had told Kayla that.

And then there was this man, the one before him, Agnes Brahe, the one whose sword blows he was doing his best to parry and block. He was bred to be their leader, to be their example to the world—and look at him now, prolonging this war, bringing this suffering down upon the heads of his fellow citizens, his own followers.

But before him all, through Agnes Brahe and his own words to Kayla and his position at the head of ZAFT's broken and angry army, he saw his own past flashing before his eyes. He saw Athrun shoot down Fllay's shuttle and take her away from him, that cruelty, that pain; he saw the Requiem blow the PLANTs out of the sky; he saw ZAFT's last gamble for revenge fail in a massive storm of fire.

He would have to be strong, cold, hard, ruthless. That was what his life had demanded, and when he needed it, he had failed—and so Tolle had died, Fllay had died, the Coordinators had died, ZAFT's hopes for revenge had died. Even Rau, the man in whom he had placed his faith when all else had gone astray, had failed him—and even when he had killed his own sister and Lacus, at the apex of his own ruthlessness, it had not been enough. Now he would have to go further, he would have to do more. He had not shed enough blood and cast his heart into hot enough flames to change the world then.

The seed burst. He would have to be different this time.

Kira glanced at Harkill again. "Take the fleet and get rid of the Austral forces. Use whatever weapons are necessary. I'll win this battle for us in one blow."

Harkill sputtered in surprise, but Kira switched the connection before he could respond.

"Marshal Yamato, we've received word—" started Davis, captain of the _Deliverance_.

Kira's eye narrowed. No tears were left; this time he would have to be ruthless. "I'm authorizing Contingency Plan Gamma," he said, the voice beginning to sound like that of another man in his ears. "Authorization code..."

Davis blinked in surprise. "Sir—"

The image of Fllay flashed before his eyes, vanishing in smoke and fire. He would make that mean something more than wanton violence or cruel carelessness, and if he had to throw his heart and soul into those very flames...then so be it.

"Thunderclap."

—

To be continued...


	8. Phase 08: Thunderclap

Mobile Suit Gundam SEED DESTINY - Red Planet

—

Phase 08 - Thunderclap

—

**November 22nd, CE 76 - ZAFT **_**Eternal**_**-class cruiser **_**Deliverance**_**, orbit of Mars**

Davis held back a smile. The test was passed.

"Authorization code received," he said, straightening up in his seat. "Launch will commence in six hundred seconds." He glanced down at one of the bridge crew. "Broadcast the warning message to all ZAFT and ZMA units. We are to evacuate our forces as far as possible from the Austral Colony." He turned his eyes out the bridge windows, towards the approaching mobile suits from the Austral Colony's meager space fleet. The ZAFT ships were already moving to intercept, their own mobile suit forces sallying forth to meet the threat, and Davis reckoned that they would be enough to at least hold the tide back—for six hundred seconds, at least. And after that, it would no longer matter.

He glanced back down at the planet below. The evacuation order was already going out and, if the tactical map was to be believed, some scattered ZAFT and ZMA units were already starting to pull out. The blast had a shorter radius thanks to the thinner Martian air, but it would be more than enough to destroy the colony.

Davis sat back with a sigh and waited for the launch.

—

**Charitum Montes, Mars**

Kara ground her teeth and glanced at the auxiliary screen again as she parried the IWSP Slaughter Dagger's sword blows.

"Why are we retreating...?" she growled. "Did we not make a breakthrough?"

The evacuation order made no explanation, and Kara shook her head, watching the Dagger come at her again.

"If it's an order..."

With a crash, the Force Impulse lunged forward and rammed the Dagger with its shield, throwing the black mobile suit back on its heels. Kara vaulted into the air and planted a high kick on the Dagger's face. She launched the Impulse into the sky and whirled around to escape—

In the Dagger below, Waid shook his head furiously and fixed the retreating Impulse with a glare. "The hell—you're running away?" He leveled off the IWSP pack's cannons and opened fire. "You ain't going _anywhere_, bitch!"

The shells flashed by the Impulse and Kara whipped around, shield ready to block the next salvo. Kara snapped up the Impulse's right arm, firing a combat flare down into the Dagger's face. As the blinding light flooded the battlefield, she turned again and took off with a roar from the Force Silhouette's engines.

"There must be a plan to this," Kara muttered, eyes scanning the battlefield for a sign of hope. "We can't have failed..."

—

"Evacuation," snorted Gary even as the Slaughter Dagger before him drove its sabers down onto the Excalibur's blade. "This is what you get for relying on those Naturals!"

With a shout, Gary flung the Dagger back with his sword and vaulted into the air. The Slaughter Dagger lunged after him, and Vanfeldt let out a sadistic cackle.

"Going somewhere!" He charged in close with another pair of saber swings, barely blocked by the Sword Impulse's Excalibur. Gary clenched his teeth, waiting for an opening—as though he had _time_ for that—and charged forward to pound the Dagger's sabers with a powerful overhead swing. The Dagger faltered beneath the blow and Gary seized his opportunity.

Vanfeldt let out a furious scream as the Impulse dropped an earth-shattering kick onto the Dagger's chest and sent it flying back down towards the colony. With a blast of exhaust, the Impulse rocketed into the sky, out of the fight.

"Gary," Kara's voice started, and Gary cast a surprised glance at the auxiliary screen. "What's going on? Why are we getting an evac order?"

"Hell if I know," he muttered back. "And why do they want us as far away as possible? What, are they going to nuke the place from orbit?" He looked down at the ZMA troops below, scorn rising through his veins. "Those damn ZMA troops..."

Kara was silent for a moment. "Rendezvous point is ten clicks south. We should find Juarez."

"Oh, he'll be making his own fun," Gary growled, as the two Gundams took off.

—

The Blast Impulse shook as the Dagger before it rained beam saber blows down onto its javelin, and Juarez bit back a curse as he planted the mobile suit's feet in the Martian dust. Ten minutes was not much time to get very far away from this place, so he would have to leave now—if this damn Dagger would let him.

The Dagger charged at him and swung its saber towards the Impulse's waist; Juarez parried the blow with the tip of his javelin and knocked it aside, and then stormed forward with a burst of exhaust to ram the Dagger with his right shoulder.

Gard snarled a curse and staggered back, before deflecting another javelin blow with his shield. He raised his saber for a counterattack—

Instead, the Blast Impulse roared into his Dagger's face and brought down its javelin, slicing off the Dagger's right arm at the shoulder and right leg at the knee. The mauled Dagger floundered without one of its legs, and Juarez rammed it to the ground and took off into the air.

"_There_ you are," Kara's voice filled the cockpit with audible relief. "Rendezvous is ten clicks south. Do you have any idea what's going on here?"

Juarez consulted the tactical map for a moment. "Only that the ZMA blew it on this one," he said. "Are we just scuttling for home or what?"

Gary cast a hateful glare down at the ZMA troops, scrambling for distance from the Austral Colony. "Everyone sure is in a hurry..." He glanced up towards Juarez. "There must be some plan we don't know about."

At that, Juarez closed his eyes and breathed a sigh. It was either that, or they were giving up...and that was not what he wanted to hear.

—

Sparks flew as the Delta Astray and Strike Freedom slammed their blades together, struggling for supremacy. The Delta Astray surged forward with a blaze of afterimages and hurled the Freedom back with its katana, before descending for another blow. Kira scowled and slapped its sword aside with his beam shield, lining up for a killing stab to the cockpit; the Delta Astray parried the blow with its shield, leaving both mobile suits locked together again, glowering.

"Not that I ever _did_ have time for you," Kira snarled, "but I especially don't _now!_"

"What's wrong, Yamato?" Agnes cried, and lunged over the Freedom's head. Kira whirled around to deflect a sword blow aimed at his back. "The battle's not going like you thought it would?" The Delta Astray skirted around the Freedom and spun around for another swing at the Freedom's waist, barely deflected by Kira's beam saber. "You should've known better than to underestimate the Austral Colony!"

Kira clenched his teeth. The warhead was beginning atmospheric reentry. If he was going to survive, he had to get away at top speed—starting _now_.

The Freedom abruptly broke off its swordfight with the Delta Astray and launched itself into the sky. Agnes furiously leveled off his beam rifle and opened fire, but the Freedom effortlessly dodged the blasts and rocketed to safety.

Agnes pounded his fist on the console, watching the Freedom escape. What the hell was he doing?

—

**Martian Liberation Army corvette **_**Acidalium**_

"What do you mean, 'pulling out?'" Nahe sputtered on the bridge of the _Acidalium_. "We didn't destroy _that_ many of them. What the hell are they planning?"

"All we've verified is that they're pulling their forces back," the soldier on the auxiliary screen reported. "The ZAFT troops seem to be moving towards a point ten clicks south of our location. The ZMA troops are just moving back in a large ring."

Nahe sat back uneasily in the captain's seat. Were they planning a siege? The ZMA troops had been unable to make any exploitable gaps in the Austral lines, and the ZAFT troops were too few to do it themselves—but if this was turning into a siege, why move their lines so far back? And the Austral space fleet had launched its attack on the ZAFT and ZMA ships in orbit. How could they expect to lay siege to the colony without the orbital approaches secure? It would be child's play to drop reinforcements or launch orbital attacks if the Austral fleet gained supremacy here.

"What about the Freedom?" he asked suddenly.

"Freedom is moving south at maximum speed," the sensor officer reported. "All units reporting in that combat has ceased."

Nahe stroked his chin thoughtfully. Was ZAFT giving up? Was the Austral Colony on the brink of victory?

Something flashed red from the sensor console, and the surprised voice of the operator snapped him out of his thoughts. "Heat source detected. There's a missile heading for the colony from planetary orbit."

"What—one missile?" Nahe asked. "What do they expect to do with—"

His blood froze as he turned his eyes towards the sky. Yes, there was one missile approaching—and there was only one reason ZAFT would launch a lone missile at the colony.

"They wouldn't..." he started, a cold sweat beading on his forehead. "_Shoot it down!_ Karl, turn the ship around! Activate the CIWS! _Don't let it_—"

Nahe said no more as the warhead detonated and the world went white.

—

A horrified scream sliced through the air in the Delta Astray's rattling cockpit. Agnes Brahe struggled to keep control over his floundering mobile suit, buffeted by the shockwave and losing armor at an alarming rate. He struggled to keep the Voiture Lumiere going at full throttle, trying to move ahead of the shockwave—but the blast had claimed most of the Delta Astray's extremities and it was all he could do to keep the thing functioning at all.

"_No!_" he screamed. "_I won't die here!_"

Agnes hurled the Delta Astray's smoking remains towards the ground and squeezed his eyes shut. The world shook as everything was swallowed by blinding white light, but the Delta Astray slammed into the ground and for Agnes, all was dark.

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_**, orbit of Mars**

Everything had stopped.

Harkill stood on the _Fortuna_'s bridge, staring down in disbelief at the planet Mars. A brilliant flash of light had flared up on the planet's surface, right where the Austral Colony was—or, had once been. He had seen the _Deliverance_ launch something, but had not known what it was—until now. As the reports filtered in of a nuclear attack on the Austral Colony, wiping it out in one blow and securing victory for ZAFT and the ZMA, even the Austral space fleet had stopped fighting. In fact, as he glanced back up at their ships and mobile suits, Harkill noted that they seemed to be retreating. And just as well, because now they were the last of their kind.

He looked back down at the planet. They had intended to capture the colony and unlock its technological secrets, but it was only so much scrap metal now. There was no longer a point to that.

Harkill shook his head to clear away the shock. They had won, and they had removed the Austral Colony and its defending forces from the war. So what if it took a nuclear warhead to achieve it? The war with the Alliance would be ten times as brutal, and the collective heart of ZAFT would need to harden now if it was to carve for itself a place in the Earth Sphere.

The admiral stood up straight. "Get me General Arnhalt," he ordered. "His troops will be responsible for the aftermath. We are picking up our own forces and moving on to our next objective."

—

**ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah, orbit of Mars**

For a moment, the Austral Colony registered brighter than the Sun. A moment later, there was nothing—just a crater, and smoldering wreckage, under a flattened mushroom cloud and a great swath of radioactive fallout.

It was, in a way, beautiful.

Valentine broke into a grin as she watched the cloud begin to collapse and disappear on Mars. Messiah was far from the battlefield, but even she had felt those million lives vanish down below. Kira had done well. He would do what was necessary when ZAFT returned to the Earth Sphere, of that she could be certain. The world would not change and the Coordinators could not find a place in it unless they made themselves something to be feared and respected—and with Kira at the head of their army, holding their standard aloft, willing to visit upon the world whatever horrors it took to force it to change, there was no way they could be defeated.

Valentine glanced up with a grin at the image of Wilhelm Schroeder on the main screen. He had clearly just gotten the word of Austral's destruction, and he looked thoroughly stunned.

"This…" he began quietly, "is certainly a shift in policy." He shot a sidelong glance towards Valentine. "After sending Vice Marshal to browbeat me over my troops not living up to the Corsica Treaty, he goes and does this…?"

"I understand that this looks like hypocrisy to you, President Schroeder," Valentine said with a smooth grin, "but you must understand our precarious position. The Austral Colony was a menace—to us and to you. After all," she smirked, "when we leave you in charge of the Martian Sphere, you wouldn't want to have _them_ clawing at your legs, would you?"

"Of course not," scoffed Schroeder, "but a nuclear weapon—?"

"It's as you told Marshal Yamato. Nobody here has signed the Corsica Treaty," Valentine replied, and her eyes sparkled with delight. "There are no rules for a war on Mars."

—

Orville Raclyffe went over his options in a panic, sitting trembling at his desk in his bunk with several of his coconspirators in a close circle around him.

"We'll go over our options again," the gravely voice of the _Thales_' captain began. "They used a nuclear weapon at Austral. They're not fucking around. They want this war over. Once it is, all our forces will be back at Messiah and we'll be outnumbered and outgunned no matter what we do. And Sunogachi and Yamato's reputations as the leaders who won this war will be complete." He glanced down at Raclyffe. "That's about it."

"Who knew that she'd go this far," someone muttered. "Crazy bitch."

"We have to make our move," Raclyffe said, cutting off the conversation before it could start. He could already feel a headache coming on. "Immediately. I need you all ready within forty-eight hours."

Quiet gasps came from every man present. "Forty-eight hours?" one of the officers sputtered. "Raclyffe, are you sure—"

"Of course I'm sure," Raclyffe said, rising from his chair to his full, imperious height. "Now that Sunogachi has proven willing to use even nuclear weapons to end this war, the fighting will get more intense. But it will also be over quickly. The Austral Colony was the last MLA stronghold outside of Deimos with significant strength, and the MLA is evacuating other outposts and moving troops to Deimos. Both sides are anticipating a decisive final battle, and although I don't know what Vargas is up to, I can assure you that he won't last long. He'll be up against the entire ZMA and all of ZAFT, and he's backing himself into a corner. And once the war ends, we will lose our last chance to knock Sunogachi out of her leadership position."

"Raclyffe," the _Thales_' captain said with a start, "we might have lost that chance already, to be honest. This is going to have to be a hostile takeover no matter what."

"Exactly," said Raclyffe with a quiet sigh. "So all you, be ready to move at my word, and we will seize the element of surprise while we still have it."

—

**Martian Liberation Army headquarters, Deimos**

"Well," Admiral Keller said softly, "that was unexpected."

Emblazoned on the main screen of the Deimos control room was the terrifying image of what remained of the Austral Colony. By now it was nothing more than a smoldering crater, strewn with wreckage. There had been over a million people in that colony, including its defenders. Now they were gone.

Emmanuel Vargas stared with some measure of concern—not for the people there, of course. They had opposed him, and he would have reduced that colony all the same in due time. What concerned him, however, was ZAFT's action. Clearly their patience for this war had run out. They had tried a conventional attack, but the ZMA troops on which they relied proved incompetent, and ZAFT had sent too few troops to take the colony themselves. And if they couldn't take the colony for themselves, well…

Vargas glanced at Keller. "You said the Beelzebub Array would be ready for frontline use in twenty-four hours?"

"Yes sir."

"And our fleets won't be gathered until at least sixty hours from now?"

"Right."

At that, Vargas turned back towards the screen. He had to figure out how to hold ZAFT off for another three or four days. After that it made no difference. With the Beelzebub Array, its positron reflectors, and the full MLA fleet gathered in one place, it would be child's play to lure ZAFT and the ZMA into a decisive battle and crush them in one fell swoop.

And in the meantime, the recovery crews surreptitiously dispatched to Austral would keep him occupied…

—

**Solis Planum, Mars**

The ZMA had organized a series of rockets to get the ZAFT troops and many of its own back into space. Some mobile suits had enough thruster power to hurl themselves into space on their own, but others did not, and Kira insisted on accompanying his troops into space.

He watched as they attached themselves to the chemical rockets that would take them to orbit. They were exultant, victorious, thrilled that through an ingenious application of a nuclear weapon, they had destroyed a hated enemy. Vice Marshal Yamato had saved the day again.

He hated it.

Kira had not expected the warhead to do as much damage as it did. His head still throbbed at the feeling of a million people, vanishing all at once, right before his eyes. It had been bad enough to feel the PLANTs and their inhabitants destroyed almost three years ago. Now, with better-developed senses, the horrible agony of what he had ordered seared his mind.

He cast a nervous glance towards his troops, watching them head back into space. They were so satisfied by the battle's outcome, he almost wondered if they had hoped to destroy it rather than capture it in the first place. That had certainly been Kira's intent. Who knew what technological wonders had just been burned away in nuclear fire? And the joy they found in their enemy being wiped out…what was that supposed to mean?

With a start, he thought back to Valentine and what she had told him in Messiah's control room. Yes, ZAFT's soldiers were filled with hatred and anger. This exultation as they marched victoriously home from the smoking crater was a taste of that feeling, and the Austral Colony's inhabitants had been fellow Coordinators. What would it be like when they returned to the Earth Sphere and turned their guns on the ones who had actually destroyed the PLANTs and the Coordinators?

_It's _our_ power, Kira_, Valentine's voice reminded him from the depths of his memory. _Our power to remake the world._

Kira swallowed and closed his heart. If this power was his to wield, and if this was what it would take to make a world worthy of Fllay's sacrifice, then so be it. He would burn it all down, and from the ashes pull something better.

—

Gary Talon was silent in the cockpit of his battered Sword Impulse unit as it rode up to space on the wing of Kara's Force Impulse. He cast a wary glance back towards the planet's surface, and for a moment he imagined he could see Austral Colony's smoldering ruins.

He had grown up at Olympus Mons. They had always had something of a rivalry with Austral, but it had never been as violent as this—and he never thought he would witness the nuclear annihilation of his hometown's perennial rival. And yet this was, as far as he understood it, part of the plan for ZAFT's return to the Earth Sphere. For ZAFT, this war had nothing to do with the petty rivalries and politics of Martian colonies. It was, he realized, a testing ground for the brutality they would set loose in the Earth Sphere.

Idly, he wondered just how much he would take part in those horrors. He figured he'd have a lot to do with it. It wasn't as though he had any particular liking for the Naturals. He knew what they had done, and although he didn't feel the pain of losing his homeland like Kara and Juarez had, he knew all the same that the Earth Sphere's Naturals were a different breed from those at Mars.

But the Austral Colony had been populated by Coordinators. That was the whole point of their genetic caste system. And yet ZAFT had descended upon them as though they were just Naturals, and slaughtered them, and destroyed them all with a nuclear weapon, and rejoiced over it now.

Gary glanced over at Kara and Juarez's mobile suits and suddenly began to dread their arrival in the Earth Sphere.

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_**, orbit of Mars**

"The Austral Colony's space fleet looks to be heading towards Deimos," the sensor officer reported. Lyle nodded and turned the captain's chair up towards Harkill.

"Admiral? Shall we pursue?"

Harkill shook his head. "If they're heading for Deimos, let them. We'll mop them all up later. Our next objective is Deimos, and Vargas." He activated the tactical map, calling up a display of the area around Deimos. "I don't know what he's planning. He's got some kind of giant satellite, and he's gathering his entire fleet around the moon. But look," he gestured at the map, "he's just gathering his forces into one place. He's backing himself into a corner."

Lyle studied the map for a moment. "He must have something special planned. Maybe with that satellite. Does Intel really not know what it is?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Harkill grunted. "Current theory is that it's some kind of additional power supply system, judging by all those solar panels. It doesn't look like a weapon of any sort. But I guess we'll see."

"Either way," Lyle said with a nod of agreement, "at least now we're doing what we should've done at the outset of this war."

Harkill stayed silent and looked back down at the Martian surface.

—

"Congratulations on the battle, sir," Kayla said with a prompt salute and what Kira knew was a sincere smile as he returned to his office.

Kira offered what he could for a reassuring smile of his own. "Thank you, Kayla." He drifted towards his desk chair. "Do you have the casualty reports yet?"

"Among our own, we have thirteen dead, seven wounded," she said, "and among the ZMA there are probably about five hundred dead, two hundred wounded."

Kira breathed a sigh out through his nose. The wounded usually very quickly became the dead in a battle on the inhospitable Martian surface. "At least our troops came out mostly intact," he said, "but the ZMA paid a heavy toll today."

Kayla shifted uncomfortably. "Admiral Harkill blames that on the ZMA troops' incompetence. They did not seize the initiative at several key points in the battle, forcing us to resort to a nuclear weapon to remove the Austral Colony from the war and complete the operation's objective."

At that, Kira glanced up warily at his faithful aide. He knew the real point of Operation _Jack of Diamonds_. It was his test, to make sure that he had the mettle to do even what was undeniably evil, in service of a greater goal and a worthy cause, without the rage that had sustained him three years ago. And he had passed that test. And what did it do but help that Austral's destruction brought this distracting little war one step closer to its end?

"Kayla," Kira began carefully, "I know that Austral was the enemy, but never forget what I did today. I did something evil."

"Wha—sir, your order brought victory!" Kayla sputtered. "The Austral Colony was destroyed—"

"Exactly," Kira said. He fixed his aide with a grim look, and she shrank back under the gaze of his electronic eye. "How old were you when Junius 7 was destroyed?"

"T-Ten, sir."

"Then you remember," Kira continued, "how outraged and hurt the Coordinators were to see it happen. Blue Cosmos and the Earth Alliance destroyed an entire PLANT with a nuclear weapon. But they only killed a quarter of the people that my order killed today." He sighed again. "Kayla, don't forget that I just did the same thing Blue Cosmos and the Earth Alliance did to Junius 7. It was evil when they did it. It was evil when I did it."

For a moment, Kayla was silent, searching for words. "Sir," she said at last, "there's…there's just no comparison between what we did here and what Blue Cosmos did. The Austral Colony was an enemy. The colony was a military installation that had to be destroyed. And…" She paused, as her voice seemed to leave her. "And we would be evil…"

Kira closed his eyes. "Yes," he said, "we would be evil. We will be evil. We will do all this and more in the Earth Sphere."

"But they deserve it!" Kayla protested. "After what they did to us—"

"That makes no difference," Kira cut her off. "What's wrong is wrong."

Kayla seemed to shrink back in defeat, and for a moment Kira felt sorry for even starting this conversation. "Then…we're evil too, sir?"

There was an answer to that. Kira hated it, but it was the truth—and it was the only thing he had left. "The evil we're fighting can only be defeated if we become evil ourselves," he said. "We have to do terrible things, Kayla, here and at Earth. We have do things that our descendents will condemn us for. But we have to do them anyway, because that is the only way to create a world where we can _have_ descendents—and have them living in a peaceful world, a better one than the world today." He looked her in the eye and felt his heart harden again. "This is our cross to bear."

Kayla stared at him, desolate and brokenhearted. "Are you carrying that cross too?"

Kira smiled grimly. "More than you know."

—

**Charitum Montes, Mars**

The fallout was still a problem, but the space suits kept it at bay as a platoon of MLA infantry combed the ruins of the Austral Colony for some sign of life. The lieutenant in charge watched it all from the launch that had carried them here. Arms crossed, she glanced over her shoulder at the two stretchers already containing their two finds. They were two pilots that had been assigned to the _Acidalium_. There had been no survivors from that little red ship, and it had lost three pilots—two in battle and one to the nuke—but these two had survived, thanks to what the lieutenant could only describe as dumb luck.

"Ma'am, we've found something," one of the soldiers' voices crackled through over the speaker. She threw a switch and leaned forward towards the microphone.

"What is it, Towers?"

"It looks like that red and white mobile suit, the Delta Astray," he replied. There was a pause for a moment, and a sound of wrenching metal. "Well, it _was_. Thing's as totaled as totaled can be. Doesn't look like even that beam wing system survived."

"Then leave it," the lieutenant ordered. "If not even the Voiture Lumiere system survived, then the pilot is probably dead too."

"Actually," Towers responded, "I don't think so, ma'am. We detected body heat in there. Maybe it's just a really fresh corpse, but I've got a couple of men checking it out." There was another pause. "Son of a bitch…I can't believe it. Lieutenant, the Delta Astray's pilot survived."

The lieutenant's jaw dropped in shock. "What—how?"

"Looks like he buried himself in the sand, face-first, and protected the cockpit with the rest of the machine." A pause. "He's out cold, though. Probably a concussion. We're bringing him in."

"Understood. Kappa, out."

The lieutenant switched the microphone off and leaned back, quietly regarding the desolation. Whoever that man was, he was in for a rude surprise when he woke up.

—

To be continued...


	9. Phase 09: For ZAFT

Mobile Suit Gundam SEED DESTINY - Red Planet

—

Phase 09 - For ZAFT

—

**November 22nd, CE 76 - Martian Liberation Army Headquarters, Deimos**

Agnes Brahe awoke with a start, and the first thing he heard was an EKG monitor speeding up.

He knew this smell, these lights, this feeling. He was in an infirmary, strapped down onto a bed. He looked around, confirming his feeling, and squeezed his eyes shut as the horrible memories came gushing back.

Deep in his heart, pulsing through his veins, writhing and seething in the marrow of his bones, he knew that his homeland was no more. The rage ate at him, the sorrow churned, the pain swelled. He recalled the warhead, realizing a split second too late what it was, and the blinding flash of light, and the Delta Astray burning away around him.

Agnes clutched his head painfully and tried to make sense of it. He suspected that the _Acidalium_ had been destroyed. It had been only a few hundred meters from the detonation zone; there was no way, even in the rarified Martian air, that it could have survived the shockwave. Nahe was dead. Probably Lord Djibril's pilots from the Earth Sphere were dead. The Delta Astray was gone. He was here—at Deimos, he suspected—rotting in an infirmary bed, without a mobile suit, without a means of revenge.

Revenge. Yes, that was the one thing he needed now, more than anything the doctors told him. The Austral Colony was gone, but he, Agnes Brahe, still lived. It was his duty to exact revenge for his fallen people upon the Hero of ZAFT and his evil minions.

He thought back in agony to the colony and his childhood there. He had been engineered as the active, protecting, paternal sort of leader, the man who would protect the colony from its enemies. But he had not been the only leader to arise from the Austral Colony's genetic engineering labs. The other was his sister, so to speak: Setona Winters, the Martian answer to Lacus Clyne, to provide the unifying, maternal side of leadership that Agnes Brahe could not. Agnes had never been close to her—not when his life involved military training and political intrigue, and hers involved charity and nurturing.

But she had ended up starting this war, in a way. She had called for Austral to remain perfectly neutral. Someone—Agnes suspected the ZMA, and by proxy, ZAFT—assassinated her soon thereafter. Austral threw its support reluctantly behind the MLA, which the ZMA and ZAFT interpreted as a declaration of war, and hostilities commenced.

Austral's citizens had, in a vague sort of way, vowed to ensure that her sacrifice was not in vain. And, as Agnes hung his head and tried not to cry, it turned out that it had.

—

"Well, that's interesting."

Vanfeldt Ria Lindsay stared in surprise at the infirmary ceiling for a moment. The last thing he remembered was his Slaughter Dagger being blown apart, its ruined torso coming to a halt under a heavy piece of debris. He had expected to die in that apocalyptic blast, but the wreckage must have shielded him from the worst of the shockwave—and now, here he was, in an infirmary somewhere, Deimos he guessed.

He sat up and took in his surroundings. There were several other men here, sleeping off surgeries and treatments. Vanfeldt guessed that they had come from the Austral Colony too.

A nuclear attack. Damned if he hadn't seen _that_ coming. But from a purely strategic sense, he was rather surprised that ZAFT hadn't done this already. If the Austral Colony was too formidable to capture in battle, then it might as well be destroyed, from their point of view.

He propped his chin up with his hand and heaved a sigh. Of course, this would all be a lot better if they hadn't destroyed his Slaughter Dagger. But he was pretty sure the black mobile suit he'd brought from the Earth Sphere was beyond salvaging at this point. The head, the Striker pack, and every limb on its body had been blown away, and the internal components had been mostly fried. His rescuers had probably just left the useless hulk in the crater where it was.

Vanfeldt flopped back down and stared at the ceiling again. Maybe they would have something for him here…because he had hardly finished fighting.

—

"He's still alive," Howard explained on the observation deck overlooking the _Elysium_, "but the Delta Astray could not be salvaged."

Omega Suzuki stared down skeptically at the dossier. "Did the rescue crew even try?"

"In their admittedly unprofessional opinion, they considered the wreckage unsalvageable."

At that, Omega glanced down towards the _Elysium_. The Deimos ground crews were removing the inactive Turn Delta from the ship's hangar. Omega glanced over the formidable new Martian machine. In every way it was superior to the Delta Astray, and even its less efficient Voiture Lumiere array still offered greater power. Between that and its nuclear engine, it could stand toe-to-toe with the Strike Freedom with only Sam Janelin at the controls. And Agnes Brahe had taken on the mighty Freedom in his inferior Delta Astray many times.

Vargas, however, had been annoyed that MLA troops had even bothered to rescue him from his radioactive tomb on the Martian surface. There was no way he would consent to handing over the MLA's finest mobile suit to the Austral Colony's born and bred leader.

"It's a shame," he said quietly. Howard followed Omega's gaze, landing on the Turn Delta. "Janelin is a good pilot, but Brahe is even better. If there is anyone other than me who can destroy Kira Yamato and his little whore, it will be him." He shrugged. "Well, at least there will be no one to get in my way. How is the Mars Jacket coming along?"

"Forty-five percent complete, sir," Howard answered. "The outer armor still needs to be fit."

Omega looked back down at the _Elysium_ and smiled.

—

Agnes Brahe blinked at the presence of four heavily-armed guards, heralding the arrival of Emmanuel Vargas in the infirmary room. Agnes fixed him with a disdainful stare, trying to summon the mental presence not to leap out of bed and throttle the man right here.

"I see you survived the debacle at Austral," Vargas said with a start. He offered only the least sincere of bows. "My condolences."

Agnes said nothing, his visage twisting in hate.

"I want to know exactly what happened at Austral," Vargas went on. "If ZAFT is willing to use nuclear weapons now, then we will need to strike first before they turn those weapons on us. Why did they attack Austral with a nuclear warhead?"

Silence was his answer, Agnes merely staring at him furiously.

Vargas held back a scowl. "The doctors told me this would happen," he said, settling for icy formality. "If that is the case, then we will not be needing your services anymore, Lieutenant Brahe. You will not be able to leave until the battle is complete, however." He turned on his heel. "Goodbye, Mr. Brahe."

Agnes stared after Vargas and his soldiers as they filed out of the infirmary, fists trembling with rage.

_You left us to die..._

He shook his head, remembering that he now lacked even the Delta Astray.

_Kira Yamato...you've even taken my power..._

—

**ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah, orbit of Mars**

"We will contact President Schroeder after we have Sunogachi secure," Raclyffe explained, "and convince Schroeder to side with our faction in ZAFT. He has every reason to do so. We are offering him a far more favorable alliance than he currently has with Sunogachi."

The captain of the _Thales_ nodded gravely. "I will keep the ship on standby outside the main control room."

The infantry commander nodded as well. "We have the element of surprise. There's no indication that Sunogachi or her followers suspect us."

Raclyffe sat back at his desk, lost in concentration. The _Fortuna_ was still just over twenty-four hours out from Messiah, and his men would have to control Messiah by the time Vice Marshal Yamato arrived. After that, the new reality could presented to ZAFT's hero and a settlement could be negotiated.

But, he brooded, there could be no alternative. The fate of the Coordinator people was at stake.

—

**November 23rd, CE 76 - ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_**, en route to Messiah**

Kira Yamato stared grimly at the tactical map before him in his office on the _Fortuna_. The projected enemy fleet dispositions at Deimos were a thing of mystery to him, because they centered around some giant solar panel array in the middle. It had to be more than just a solar power generator, of course, but Kira was at a loss to explain just what it did. And that left a hole through which his troops might get killed.

He glanced up at Kayla, finding in dismay that she continued to look at him with total confidence in her eyes.

Idly, he pondered what manner of evil he would have to commit at Deimos. That giant solar array continued to perplex him, but if it was a weapon of some kind, he knew not how it operated. Perhaps it was a giant shield instead.

Kira sat back and rubbed his temples. Hopefully the intelligence would come in on just what the hell that thing was, because until ZAFT knew, it could not launch an attack.

"The attack on Austral has ended almost all of the fighting," Kayla spoke up. "The last two MLA colonies surrendered outright in the past six hours."

"Did they now," Kira muttered. "That just leaves Deimos and their main fleet."

"Commander Svante reports picking off three MLA ships from a convoy," Kayla added. "And several other commanders are on the trail."

"They shouldn't bother," Kira said with a sigh. "If it comes down to it, we can activate Messiah's NEO-GENESIS array in battle and take out a bunch of them. In the meantime, there's no sense risking our troops unnecessarily."

"Yes sir."

Kira cast a wary glance in the direction of Mars, behind the _Fortuna_ as it sped for home. There should be no unnecessary deaths here, of course…because there would be killing aplenty soon.

—

There was irony at work here.

Juarez Recardo floated on the gantry overlooking the _Fortuna_'s busy hangar, staring grimly at his disassembled Impulse unit. Yes, there was irony at work here, and he knew it the moment he looked back at the Austral Colony and saw the flattened beginnings of a mushroom cloud looming over the colony.

ZAFT had been galvanized into war by a nuclear attack. The Bloody Valentine had claimed almost a quarter of a million people, and Marshal Sunogachi still invoked it in her fiery speeches. The Junius War had opened with a mass nuclear attack by the Atlantic Federation, beaten back at the last moment by the Neutron Stampeder. And at Solomon's Sword, the ZAFT supercarrier _Gondwana_ had been destroyed by a nuclear weapon. ZAFT and the Coordinators knew the bitter taste of its nuclear fire well.

He shook his head. ZAFT's use of a nuclear weapon to destroy the Austral Colony made no difference. They were the enemy; they were abominable; they were an obstacle. And the war would only get more ruthless. Juarez knew too well the hatred festering in ZAFT's surviving soldiers, hatred that Marshal Sunogachi intended to set loose in the Earth Sphere and use to carve out a place for the Coordinators once and for all. Apply enough force and everyone would fear, and the only way the Coordinators would be left in peace was if they were too scary to fight.

They would have to do worse things than wiping out a colony with a nuclear weapon. Juarez knew that; he was going to be part of it.

So why did he feel so bad about it?

—

"There's no sense worrying about it," Kara said quietly as she and Gary rounded a corner on the _Fortuna_'s pull-bars. "They deserved it, in a way."

Gary frowned at those words. "They really weren't that bad, Kara," he said. "I should know. I've lived on Mars."

"Yeah, in the Olympus Mons colony."

"It's not like that," Gary said, coming to a stop in front of her. "Yeah, we worked a lot with and against Austral. But it's a myth to say that they were all miserable in their vocational placement." He shrugged. "Maybe they were just conditioned to be happy with wherever they were put, but it's not like they were all totally miserable."

Kara narrowed her eyes at Gary. "Oppression is oppression, whether the oppressed realize it or not."'

"That's not my point," Gary answered. "I'm saying they really weren't that bad." He shrugged. "You guys haven't grown up here. It's harsh. We're on the frontier of human civilization. There's no room for mistakes. Yeah, Austral took things way too far, but..."

Kara whirled around and fixed Gary with an angry glare. "Let me put it like this, then," she said. "What the Alliance did to us is so much worse than what we did to the Austral Colony that you'll forget all about this. We destroyed an enemy facility in a time of war. They committed genocide. You tell me which is worse, Gary." She scowled. "After all, at least you still have a home."

With that, Kara stormed away, and Gary stared after her disdainfully.

_Do I now...?_

—

**Martian Liberation Army Headquarters, Deimos**

"It's a magnificent mobile suit," Sam Janelin said with a grin. Sitting behind his desk at Deimos, Emmanuel Vargas sized up the famous ace. At least he was a good enough pilot to use the Turn Delta, and even stand up in it to ZAFT's otherwise unstoppable Strike Freedom. "I've never piloted a machine so responsive and fast. It's incredible."

Incredible, perhaps, but Vargas knew he had to give up one of his plans. The war would end long before he could even dream of mass-producing the Turn Delta...but at least he had one to work with, and a pilot competent enough to make it effective.

"ZAFT's fleet will be upon us soon," he said airily, "and although the ZMA is no longer of any concern to us, ZAFT's forces remain dangerous. Particularly so is their leader. You've fought him before; I'm assigning you to fight him again. I'm sure you'll be able to prevail as long as you're not cut short," he smiled thinly, "right?"

"Of course, sir."

Vargas sat back, thinking. He had the forces to make a creditable last stand against ZAFT and their ZMA lackeys, but the nuclear attack on Austral had scrambled his calculations. ZAFT was willing to go far further than he had first thought in ending this war, and that left him little time to prepare.

But, as he glanced back down at the tactical map on his desk, a plan began to take shape—and targets began springing to mind.

—

The man the Austral Colony had bred to be their leader was reduced to this pitiful, nearly catatonic mess. Omega Suzuki found that endlessly amusing. But he was here for more reasons than to gloat.

"I agree," he said gravely, looking into Agnes' dull eyes. "It's outrageous. Vargas should have sent at least a couple of ships to help."

Agnes cocked an eyebrow at the masked man. "And why didn't you come?"

"Damage to my ship, and I had important cargo that could not be risked on the battlefield." He shrugged. "But I would have come to Austral's defense if I had been able."

Agnes seemed skeptical but chose not to pursue it. "What does it matter now anyway," he snorted. "He even destroyed the Delta Astray. Vargas has all but released me from the MLA. I have no weapon and no authority." His eyes glazed over. "And now, no homeland."

"Yes," Omega agreed, "ironic, isn't it?" Agnes glanced up at him with the first swirling wisps of hatred in his eyes. "That ZAFT should have destroyed the colony, that is." He shrugged again. "They only even came to Mars because the Earth Alliance destroyed the PLANTs and wiped out most of the Coordinator people. And then they come here and destroy the Austral Colony—fellow Coordinators, even. You're right to hate them. They fought with monsters and so became monsters."

_And_, he added mentally with a knowing smile, _you stare into the abyss, Agnes._

The ruined Coordinator scoffed. "Yes, they're hypocrites," he said, "but what does that matter now? I can't do anything about it."

Omega's grin widened. "Can't you?"

"With what?" Agnes gestured bitterly around him. "I'm stuck in a hospital bed without a mobile suit or a commission. What am I going to fight Yamato with? My fists?"

At that, Omega shrugged and turned to leave. "Your commission hasn't been officially voided. Until it is, you're free to wander the fortress," he smiled, "until something catches your fancy."

Omega swept out the door with a wild grin, leaving Agnes behind to contemplate.

—

"They're not exactly the Delta Astray," said Thomas as he strode down the gantry, "but they're among the best we've ever made."

The bald scientist glanced over his shoulder at the two pilots behind him. Vanfeldt and Waid, as he recalled their names to be, were two of the three surviving mobile suit pilots from the Austral Colony. Whether they were lucky or skilled Thomas knew not, but Agnes Brahe's pilots had amassed a reputation for skill—if not overwhelming skill.

Thomas gestured towards his first creation, a blue Astray unit with a huge IWSP pack on its back. "Meet the Zero Astray," he told the two pilots with a small smirk. "More weapons and verniers to compensate for the added mass. It's like an IWSP unit, but with twice the firepower and half the slowdown." He gestured towards the next, another blue Astray unit with huge blades on its wrists and ankles. "And there's the Sigma Astray, born and bred for melee combat."

He turned towards the two pilots, finding Waid staring at the Zero and Vanfeldt at the Sigma. At last, Vanfeldt shot a glance towards Thomas.

"You don't have pilots for these things, do you?"

"No."

Vanfeldt was at Thomas's side in an instant with a wild grin. "So, I don't think we've been introduced," he said, seizing Thomas's hand in a frantic handshake. "Vanfeldt Ria Lindsay, how ya doin'?"

Thomas flinched. "Um, fine, take it," he said. "Just don't break it."

An instant later, Vanfeldt was sailing towards the Sigma Astray like a child in a zero-gravity candy shop. Thomas rolled his eyes and glanced at Waid—who was already taking off towards the Zero.

"As long as they give us data," he snorted, and headed back down the gantry.

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_**, en route to Messiah**

Drifting through the inky sky of space, the planet Mars shone bright and filled the _Fortuna_'s observation deck with red light. Juarez Recardo stared down somberly at the red planet, lost in thought—so lost that he didn't notice as Kara stepped onto the observation deck.

"You know, I lost a friend at Junius 7," he said quietly, taking Kara by surprise as the door slid shut. "Old primary school friend. He moved to Junius 7 when we were both eight." He waved a hand dismissively towards the planet below. "And, wouldn't you know it, he was gone."

"Of all the people to have an ethical problem with our actions, I wasn't expecting it to be you," Kara said, coming to rest next to Juarez on the railing. "I just had to chew out Gary for that."

"Don't be too hard on him. He grew up here. Watching the Austral Colony get destroyed is to him what watching Junius 7 get destroyed was to us." He glanced at Kara sadly. "And we both lost our families and friends to the Requiem."

Kara clenched her fists around the railing. "Why else do you think I want to get on with the plan?"

"You know I don't like it."

"Well I haven't heard you think of a better one."

Juarez closed his eyes. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."

An awkward silence reigned between them for a moment, before Kara let out a long sigh. "It's just..." She looked down at her hands. "People our age shouldn't be doing this kinda stuff. And..." She trailed off, fixing her gaze on the planet below.

"I know," Juarez finished. "We all lost everything." He shrugged. "But...well, there must be some survivors at Austral. And now they've lost everything too. What gives us the right to do to them what was done to us?"

Kara's eyes flashed cold. "They were obstacles," she said. "The MLA are obstacles too. And if we don't go through them..." She shook her head. "Then we'll be in exile here forever."

—

Staring up at the auxiliary screen on the _Fortuna_'s bridge, Lyle Markus felt only disgust as he watched the images tick by of the enemy fleet disposition at Deimos. They were just Natural vermin.

But they were not truly the worst of the Naturals. That was a distinction reserved for the Naturals of the Earth Sphere, so resentful and pitiful that they had resorted to destroying the Coordinators outright. No, Martian Naturals were of a more pathetic and helpless sort, acquiescing to their shameful existences. But still they struggled against the real heirs to human progress.

This war was maddening. It forced ZAFT to side with an army of incompetents. The ZMA had forced ZAFT's hand at the Austral Colony; if it weren't for the bumbling and weakness of Arnhalt's men, there would have been no need to fire a nuclear warhead at the enemy. But no, those Naturals had failed, and the ZMA's handful of Coordinators among their ranks would simply have to be absorbed by ZAFT before setting out for the Earth Sphere.

And then there was the MLA, split between more contemptible Naturals and the race-traitors from various colonies, most particularly the Austral Colony. It suited them perfectly to be destroyed by a nuclear weapon. They took up arms against their fellow Coordinators, when in reality their true foe was about seventy-eight million kilometers away.

At least, however, this war was almost over. One last battle—a real battle, if that fleet disposition was any indication—and they could get back to the hard work of preparing for what would truly be the war they were meant to fight.

—

"Tell Commander Ehrmacht to break off his operations and join the main fleet," Kira said, hands folded over his desk resolutely. "As heavy a price as they paid, the ZMA forces' performance at Austral was inadequate. We are not relying on them alone as our main force when we begin the final push for Deimos."

Kayla nodded approval. "President Schroeder will be displeased, sir. What will I tell him?"

"If President Schroeder wants his troops to win the battle, he should send us troops that _can_." Kira shrugged his shoulders. "Send out orders to Commander Cummings and Commander Glasgow as well. We will have to gather a fleet capable of fighting the MLA without any help from the ZMA whatsoever, if need be."

Kayla blinked in surprise. "Should I pass this along to President Schroeder? He has insisted that his forces take part in any attack on Deimos."

"I know," said Kira, "but if his men can't get the job done, they'll be merely wasting their lives on the battlefield." He shook his head. "There's no point to that. And I don't want this war going on a second longer than it has to. We'll end it in one stroke at Deimos."

He sat back as Kayla eagerly transcribed his orders. Of course, Valentine had a plan for Schroeder and his men regardless of ZAFT's forces at the Deimos assault. Schroeder himself would be present to watch his fleet advance—where they would probably be torn to pieces by the MLA defenders. But Vargas's troops would wear themselves out savaging the sacrificial lamb of Schroeder's fleet, leaving the MLA forces exposed to ZAFT's crushing counterattack. It was a plan that, on military and political grounds, made perfect sense.

On ethical grounds it was an outrage, but Kira passed them over. He would have to learn to ignore his conscience again. Once he had done so out of rage, but the rage had faded into a dull sort of smolder—and that was something his conscience could overpower. Now he had to be cold.

He glanced over at Kayla again. For her sake, at least, he had to be cold—because if he wasn't, then he could not do what was needed to carve out a new world for her and the other Coordinators.

And that was the greatest outrage of all.

—

**November 24th, CE 76 - ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_**, en route to Messiah**

Stepping onto the _Fortuna_'s bridge as the ZAFT flagship approached Messiah, Kira knew instantly that something was not right from the panic and anxiety throbbing from the crew. He glanced around and tried to keep the nervousness off his own face, drifting to a halt next to Lyle's chair.

"What's going on, captain?"

Lyle looked up at Kira, his face ash-white. "Sir, Messiah is refusing to allow us to dock. They're saying...well, listen for yourself."

The comm officer took his cue, and Kira felt his heart drop as the ramrod-straight figure of Orville Raclyffe, Valentine's military adjutant, appeared on the screen. He was in Messiah's main control room, swarming with troops and prisoners—and with Valentine held at gunpoint, her arms bound, by two heavily-armed infantrymen.

"Ah, Vice Marshal Yamato," Raclyffe greeted smoothly, "I was wondering when you'd show up."

Kira narrowed his eye at the elegant man. "I hope you know that's treason you're committing, Raclyffe."

"Treason is to aid the enemies of one's people, marshal," Raclyffe replied airily. "To fight those enemies is not treason but honor and duty." He gestured at Valentine. "And you know as well as I do that Marshal Sunogachi is at least as dangerous for our people as Lord Djibril."

"That's ridiculous!" Lyle snapped. Kira glanced down at him sharply to silence him, and returned his gaze to the auxiliary screen.

"What's the meaning of this, Raclyffe? What do you want?"

Raclyffe stepped forward with a small smile. "Two things, marshal. First, I want your ship to dock at Messiah so that you can come to the control room for some negotiations. And second..."

He glanced at something off-camera, and Kira noted on the side of the screen that he was broadcasting to all of Messiah and its surrounding ships.

"I would like to announce that as of this moment, the commander of all ZAFT forces throughout the solar system is myself."

—

To be continued...


	10. Phase 10: Crosses to Bear

Mobile Suit Gundam SEED DESTINY - Red Planet

—

Phase 10 - Crosses to Bear

—

**November 24th, CE 76 - ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah, orbit of Mars**

"I must admit," President Schroeder said sardonically, "of all the possibilities within ZAFT's forces, I did not expect _this_ one."

The ZMA President stared down disdainfully from the Messiah control room's main screen, where Raclyffe stood before him with crossed arms. The tall officer glanced over his shoulder, at the two infantrymen who had Valentine Sunogachi at gunpoint. Perhaps they should have gotten her out of range first before contacting Schroeder—but where to, anyway?

"Marshal Sunogachi has not been the best leader for the Coordinators," Raclyffe said carefully. "She has a sickness, you see."

Schroeder arched an eyebrow. "I knew nothing of this."

"Of course you didn't, sir, but I'm sure in retrospect you'll notice." He waved a dismissive hand. "But you're a politician, President Schroeder, and I know that as such, you know the real meaning of power. And looking at Messiah's control room, I know you can tell who has it and who doesn't." He gestured towards Valentine. "But that hasn't been the case for the war's entirety. I've been to those meetings and heard those communiqués, sir. And it is readily apparent who in the ZMA's relationship with ZAFT has the power and who does not." He smiled. "But that can all change today, President Schroeder. Because now the power has changed hands, and we—" he gestured around the room at his accomplices— "want a different relationship."

Schroeder frowned. "You chose a fine time to try and reverse the power structure, Mr. Raclyffe. The war is almost at its end. I'm sure you'll forgive my impatience on that matter."

Raclyffe frowned. "Legitimize us and we'll end this war for you, exactly the way you want it ended."

—

**Martian Liberation Army Headquarters, Deimos**

Emmanuel Vargas stared up in surprise at the tactical map. If his eyes did not deceive him, the ZAFT fleet was stationary—while at the same time his own fleet was gathering at flank speed around his great fortress at Deimos. Was this the hand of Providence he so needed?

"Intel intercepted a message to all ZAFT ships," Keller explained. "They were ordered to hold—not by the ZAFT Marshal, but by her adjutant."

"By her adjutant? What are they planning?"

Vargas put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. If the ZAFT fleet was holding at the adjutant's instruction, then perhaps there had been some sort of _coup_—and _that_, Vargas knew, was the stroke of luck he needed to delay the battle just long enough to gather his forces and fully charge the Beelzebub Array.

"And ZAFT's units are holding all over? The ZMA forces are too?" Keller nodded, and Vargas broke out into a victorious grin. "Fate is on our side, then. Admiral Keller, send out the orders to our forces to get here at flank speed. Our battle is about to begin."

—

Deimos was buzzing with activity, and as far as Agnes Brahe could remember this was about as professional and excited as he had ever seen MLA soldiers get. The fleet of _Marseille III_ freighters and a handful of _Izumo_-class battleships were growing, and the Beelzebub Array was gathering power.

Agnes staggered towards the nearest hangar and pulled himself through the door. He cast his eyes dully about the cavernous room. His eyes caught something in the hangar's center—

"The Delta Astray..."

He had not seen just how much damage his loyal steed had taken, but the twisted, blackened hulk before him was hardly recognizable. The limbs and head were gone, the gleaming white armor was blackened with soot and scorch-marks. The sword had survived—Agnes remembered how he had stabbed the blade into the ground to the hilt, to anchor the dying machine in place as the shockwaves struck—but the Austral Colony's pride and joy...

It had been entrusted to him. Ten years of research on the Voiture Lumiere had culminated in this magnificent mobile suit, designed for speed and maneuverability unparalleled by any machine...until the Strike Freedom and ZAFT came along. And even they had not been able to topple him. It was living, fighting proof of the Austral Colony's skill and prosperity, proof that they were not merely another band of Martian colonists but were, indeed, the future of Martian inhabitation.

And now here it was, so many particles of dust on such a ruined and broken machine. Agnes felt his knees give out from under him, and only the lack of gravity kept him from hitting the floor.

Setona had been right. They should have stayed out of this war.

—

Omega Suzuki furiously wiped the blood from his chin. His private room on Deimos was outfitted to deal with these spasms, and only Howard stood by with a nervous look on his face. With a snarl, Omega reared back and spat a mouthful of blood into the cup at his side.

"A very macabre scene, I'm sure," he grunted, and glanced up at Howard with pulsing eyes. "Apologies."

Howard waved him off. "Are you sure you can handle the Mars Jacket, sir?"

"It'll only be one battle," Omega snorted. "And I don't have much time left...but I _do_ have a little successor." A wicked, bloody grin spread over his lips. "Oh yes. I can feel it. Someone else hates Kira Yamato as much as I do now, and someone else will go as far as I have to destroy him."

"Lieutenant Brahe?"

"Exactly." The shaking blond man replaced his mask and sat up painfully.

"But the Delta Astray was destroyed at Austral," Howard protested. "And the only machines we have that can really stand up to ZAFT's Gundam are already assigned."

"Oh, that problem will take care of itself," Omega said with a smirk. "Just wait for him to find the Turn Delta."

"And what about Lieutenant Janelin?"

Omega grinned back.

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_

Silence reigned in the _Fortuna_'s crew lounge. Gary sat slumped on one of the benches, Kara not far away, while Juarez leaned against a wall with his arms crossed.

"I hate this," snarled Kara.

Juarez glanced up at her. "It's not like there's anything we _could_ do."

"But why did he have to go alone?" Kara groaned. "He's walking right into their turf. They're going to kill him, or take him hostage or something, aren't they? Dammit, how could they even think of doing this...what the hell could Raclyffe want?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Gary sat up. "Marshal Sunogachi didn't exactly come to her position democratically, did she?"

"No," Juarez agreed. "She took command by virtue of being the only one in FAITH who asked for it. It pissed off a lot of officers, but she made peace with them later." He paused. "Or, well, most of them."

"Is that what this is? Just a power trip?" Kara sighed. "Goddammit, we don't need this. And we were on the verge of beating Vargas too."

Juarez looked warily between his two subordinates. "Vargas won't be able to do much while this is going on," he said, "and neither will we."

Kara clenched and unclenched her fist, and Gary heaved a sigh. Juarez shook his head and glanced towards the wall.

_But I do wonder what it is you're planning, Marshal Yamato..._

—

**ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah, orbit of Mars**

The control room doors opened with a hiss, all eyes turned towards the opening, and a man stepped through. The doors slid shut again, a crash of finality vibrating through the walls, and Kira Yamato stood alone against Raclyffe and his men.

"Marshal Yamato," Raclyffe said with only the most servile of smiles. "Welcome to Messiah."

Kira fixed the adjutant with a glare. "A lot of nerve you've got, welcoming me to my own home."

"On the contrary," Raclyffe went on, "this isn't just your home, Marshal. Nor is it Marshal Sunogachi's home. It's the Coordinators' home. It has been for three years." He put his hands behind his back with a smile.

Kira seized the moment to take in his surroundings. Valentine was off to the side, bound and held at gunpoint by two well-armed infantrymen. The room was not crowded, but there were about a dozen officers and several more infantry in here. Most of Raclyffe's men were in other key locations throughout Messiah—and if the plan was going to work, it would have to stay that way.

He, however, was the linchpin of the plan—and he tried not to let it show.

"Now that you're here, Marshal Yamato," Raclyffe continued, "I think we have a few things to discuss. So perhaps I should lay out for you just why we are doing this."

Kira did not move. "Perhaps you should."

Raclyffe stepped forward. "We are here, Marshal Yamato, because Marshal Sunogachi is mad." Kira noted with a suppressed smile the annoyed look that flashed across Valentine's face. "As the Vice Marshal of ZAFT, you are of course well aware of your superior's plans for this military force upon our return to the Earth Sphere." He arched an eyebrow. "It is little more than terrorism and slaughter."

"I know."

"Do you agree with these steps as necessary and justified?"

"I do."

At that, Raclyffe blinked in surprise—and Valentine barely hid her smirk. "W-Would you care to explain?"

"It's very simple, Raclyffe," Kira said, his voice level. "The Earth Alliance has never feared us, and in our previous two wars with them we had the handicap of sticking with laws and standards of warfare where the enemy did not. Only at the end did we target civilians, the base from which the Alliance government wages war, and by then it was too late. Furthermore, it is those very resources that we refused to target that gave the Alliance its strength The only way to protect ourselves is to turn ourselves into a force that the Alliance fears and respects too much to challenge, and to render the Alliance unable to ever threaten us again." He narrowed his eyes at Raclyffe and hoped he would get the point—because he really didn't want to go any further.

"When in history has that _ever_ worked, Marshal Yamato?" Raclyffe shot back, dashing Kira's hopes. "The safest countries are always the ones that build relationships of mutual toleration. If anything, we are safer here at Mars than at Earth."

Kira arched a skeptical eyebrow. "ZAFT is not going to agree to stay here, and even if we did, the Alliance would hunt us down anyway."

"You forget, Marshal Yamato, that we are a rational and logical people, and this—"

"No," Kira said, and crossed his arms, "we are not."

Raclyffe blinked for a moment and put back on his characteristic smirk. "I know you're young, Marshal Yamato, and you didn't live on the PLANTs for most of your life," he said, "but perhaps you don't understand the evil you say you're—"

"If we have to become evil," Kira interrupted, "then we will."

"We don't have to—"

"Yes we do," Kira shot back. He glanced at Valentine for an instant and caught her almost-imperceptible nod. "The Alliance will learn to fear us, when we attack their civilian populations and put the fear of us into _their_ hearts. When the Alliance tries to defeat us on the battlefield, we'll stop them, with new weapons and forces and tactics. When the Alliance faces the worst of our arsenal, they'll find themselves powerless to stop us. And they'll have no choice but to give in to whatever demands we make." He frowned. "Do you have a better plan?"

"Marshal," Raclyffe said, his smirk vanishing, "surely you see that this is madness." He swung his arm towards Valentine. "Surely you can see the hypocrisy here. The Alliance drove us to exile here through nothing less than attempted genocide. They targeted our civilian populations not just as a means of attaining military victory, but as the end itself. Their goal was to destroy us." He pointed vindictively at Valentine. "How, Marshal Yamato, is her plan any different? Any better?"

"It is necessary—"

"_How_, marshal, is it necessary to do to the Earth Alliance what Blue Cosmos did to _us?_"

Frustration flickered across Kira's eye. "Raclyffe, do you really think that just attacking the Alliance military is going to convince them to leave us to our space in peace? We did that in two wars and look where it got us. The problem with the Alliance runs much deeper than Blue Cosmos. It's a sickness that infects the entire human race—even us. And we are going to change it, with shocking brutality."

Raclyffe sneered. "Ridiculous. The Alliance outnumbers us ten to one. We may have new weapons and more troops, and they may have distractions and drains on their resources, but it is still madness to think that the Alliance won't throw everything it has at ZAFT's brazen acts of terrorism. To say nothing of the damage you'll do to our public support. When you begin this plan the Alliance will bring the full weight of its power down on ZAFT and none of us will survive. I cannot believe you support this insane scheme."

Kira straightened up, ice washing over his countenance. "You seem to forget, Raclyffe, that I just ordered a nuclear strike against a colony full of civilians."

At that, Raclyffe paled. "I see through that, Marshal Yamato. That order came," he waved his hand contemptuously, "from Marshal Sunogachi."

"No," Kira answered. "_I_ gave that order."

Raclyffe fell silent.

"That's right, Raclyffe. _I_ ordered the _Deliverance_ to fire a nuclear missile at the Austral Colony, knowing full well that it was going to kill about a million civilians. And that, Raclyffe, is what we're going to do in the Earth Sphere. Horrible, evil things. And we're going to do them because we have to. If I have to become evil to create a new world for our children, then fine, I'll become evil. At least that way our people will _have_ a future."

"A future built on corpses and hypocrisy," Raclyffe shot back. "A future you built out of doing nothing but unjustified, pointless evil—that won't even achieve its desired end anyway."

Kira was silent a moment, regarding Raclyffe with growing contempt. Was this a test too? He knew how to pass it. He glanced over Raclyffe's shoulder, finding the _Nazca_-class destroyer that had sided with the tall staff officer drifting by—_finally_, right into position.

"We won't do what's right, Raclyffe," he said at last. "We'll do what's necessary."

He closed his eye and hoped that this would work.

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_

In a way, Lyle was surprised that this hadn't happened already. Marshal Sunogachi had rather undemocratically assumed command, largely on the grounds that she was one of only two FAITH members who had made it to Mars after Solomon's Sword—and the other FAITH member at the time was happy to let her take command. But he should have known that not everyone would agree with her vision for the Coordinators' future, and some of them would resort to methods like this.

The plan, however, would require his utmost concentration and for that he had the bridge silent and his eyes screwed shut. He still wasn't sure exactly how it was supposed to work, but Vice Marshal Yamato had told him to wait for a signal—and he would know that signal when he got it.

Lyle cracked one eye open to glance out the _Fortuna_'s bridge windows. He could see the cerulean hull of the _Thales_ drifting into view—

_Lyle, _now!

The voice flooded his mind and Lyle jerked forward. "Tannhäuser, _fire!_"

—

**ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah**

The pulsing red beam pounded its way through the _Thales_' hull and blew the ship apart in a dazzling fireball. Kira steeled himself as his cue presented itself.

In a flash, he vaulted across the room and took down Raclyffe with a right hook across the face. An instant later, Valentine had swept out the legs from both of her captors, even as the light from the _Thales_' explosive death flooded the control room and the shockwave rattled everything. Kira turned his mechanical eye towards the soldiers as they struggled to gather their wits. He seized one of their assault rifles, killed them both, then tackled Valentine to the floor as Raclyffe's other men opened fire.

The door burst open and Kira kept Valentine flat on the floor as a squad of his own soldiers burst in, guns blazing. It was over in seconds, and Raclyffe's troops and officers lay dead or dying in growing clouds of blood.

Kira shot off Valentine's handcuffs and helped her back to her feet, and with a furious flourish he whirled around on Raclyffe, held on his knees by a pair of loyal infantry.

"Very clever," Raclyffe snarled, "but you're making a mistake, Yamato. She's no better than Lord Djibril and you know it. She's going to lead you to hell."

Kira's eye flashed with fury and he shoved the rifle's muzzle under Raclyffe's chin, freezing the man in terror. Raclyffe desperately looked up towards Kira's mismatched eyes, and found nothing but contempt.

"So be it."

He pulled the trigger and the deed was done.

The Vice Marshal turned around, and Kira's eye went wide as Valentine threw her arms around him and kissed him—to the shock of the troops in the room. He staggered back and looked around helplessly, anger melting away to embarrassment. "V-Valentine—"

"I got tired of hiding it," she said, and turned towards the gaping men throughout the room. "And in case any of you were wondering, this is why I don't prohibit fraternization." She pulled away from Kira, letting him compose himself as a man in a flak jacket and Black Shirt uniform stepped forward awkwardly.

"Sir, um, reporting in," the officer started. "We've got the control room and reactor controls secured. We can keep the rest of Raclyffe's men isolated until they're killed or captured."

Kira straightened his shirt and nodded towards the officer. "Alright. Good. Capture them if you can." He dismissed the officer with a salute, and turned again towards Raclyffe's bleeding corpse.

It was no longer hatred that filled him at the sight of the traitor, but pity.

_There's so much more than the Coordinators...and I'll travel through hell for it all._

—

**Martian Liberation Army Headquarters, Deimos**

Agnes Brahe rounded a corner inside the great Deimos fortress. A sandwich and a shower had done little to improve his mood—as if _anything_ could really make him feel better about being the last of his people—and he still felt lost and morose...

...until he laid eyes on _it_.

The memories came to mind immediately. That was the MLA's latest mobile suit, the Turn Delta, the great red-and-white hope that carried a Voiture Lumiere array and could fight even the mighty Strike Freedom. It was glorious, the perfect upgrade from the Delta Astray whose scorched hulk lay in the adjacent hangar. With that he could exact his revenge—just as Omega Suzuki had suggested. It was perfect, unstoppable, and...not his.

Indeed, the real pilot was Sam Janelin, and he was speaking with a mechanic nearby. Agnes kept his eyes on the Turn Delta as Sam glanced over, surprised.

"You're still alive," Sam said with a smirk. "Fancy that." He followed Agnes' gaze. "Ah, finally meeting the Turn Delta, I see. Pretty cool, huh?"

Agnes felt his cheek twitch. "Are you going to fight in the next battle?"

"Of course."

"Then...let me use it."

Sam narrowed his eyes at the ruined Coordinator. "Um, excuse me? I don't think so. I've already been assigned to this machine and I've already used it. I'm way better suited."

"Kira Yamato destroyed my colony," Agnes growled, his hands beginning to tremble. "I must destroy him."

"Yeah, so I heard. Bummer." Sam slapped Agnes on the back in an ostensibly friendly way. "Well, good luck with that, man." With that, he hopped off the hangar floor and drifted up towards the Turn Delta's cockpit hatch.

Agnes remained below, hands twitching, blood boiling with rage.

"I must have that machine to fight Kira Yamato," he hissed, "and _I will have it_."

—

"It's going to be a good battle," Omega Suzuki chuckled, with Howard at his side on the hangar gantry.

Together they looked down at the hulking Astray Mars Jacket as its head fittings were connected to the mobile suit underneath. All this armor would make it nearly impervious to beam fire, but it had enough verniers and thrusters to compensate for the added mass and maintain respectable maneuverability. Its oversized katanas could cut through Phase Shift. It had beam shields. The Strike Freedom's DRAGOON units would be of no help against it; Kira Yamato would finally have to face up to what he had done.

Howard cracked a smile. "He's going to be in for quite a surprise."

"And even if he gets past me," Omega said wistfully, "there will always be Agnes Brahe."

"Yes, about him," Howard said, "I don't think anybody's going to consent to keeping the Turn Delta from launching long enough for Brahe to get to it."

"They don't have to. Stir up a little confusion in all the bureaucracy and they won't have a choice."

Howard said nothing, and Omega merely crossed his arms and smiled.

"Anyways," he said, "soon none of it will matter. And I'm looking forward to this."

—

"So what the fuck happened to you?"

Agnes felt something inside him come close to snapping. He slowly turned around in the corridor and found two familiar men standing behind him.

Cocking an eyebrow, Vanfeldt Ria Lindsay shot the broken Coordinator a devilish grin. At his side, Waid Rabby Nadaga offered a shrug.

"You're looking like shit, y'know," he added.

Agnes blinked at both of them, incomprehensibly. "You survived?"

"Of course we did," Vanfeldt answered with a smirk. "You didn't really think a little nuclear weapon was going to kill _me_, did you?"

"We've even got new mobile suits," Waid put in, jerking his thumb in the direction of the hangars. "Got out of this pretty good, I'd say."

"Not that the same can be said for you," laughed Vanfeldt. "I saw the Delta Astray in there. Looks like you're fucked, pal." He gave a sarcastic thumbs up.

Agnes felt the furious twitching coming on again. "Neither of you care that the Austral Colony was obliterated?"

Vanfeldt shrugged. "Why should I? Not like it was _my_ home or anything."

"Yeah, uh, no offense but I'm pretty sure I don't really care either," Waid said.

Fury bubbled up Agnes' veins. He pushed it down and reminded himself resolutely of the Turn Delta. It had to be his. Without it he could not take revenge on Kira Yamato—and without _that_, his existence was well and truly pointless.

He turned on his heel, leaving his two former pilots behind as he stalked back down the corridor.

—

A flurry of beeps and chimes rose up from the consoles in Deimos' control room, and from his place on the command Dais, Emmanuel Vargas lit up a smile. It was almost musical, really.

"The Beelzebub Array is completely charged, sir," one of the deckhands reported. "Output is at optimal levels."

"And the fleet has been completely gathered," Keller added at Vargas's side. "Everything is ready."

Vargas grinned with anticipation and stepped forward. "With this blow begins our victory. Beelzebub Array, affix target on the Nergal space colony—and _open fire!_"

The Beelzebub Array flickered and sparked as a building sphere of golden light appeared at the vertices of its arms and panels. The light became blinding, the sparks filled the black sky around the massive machine, and suddenly the entire array seemed to shudder. When Vargas could see again, the great golden beam lanced out from the Beelzebub Array and into the darkness.

Vargas smiled.

_Now come to the battle here, and I'll finish you off._

—

**ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah, orbit of Mars**

The screen flickered to life in Messiah's control room and Valentine looked up sharply from the conferring circle of officers around her desk. President Schroeder was on the screen, and Valentine needed no Newtype senses to see the panic in his eyes. Kira was at her side in a heartbeat.

"Marshal Sunogachi," Schroeder said, the falter audible in his voice, "we have a new problem. There was a huge spike of energy just now originating from Deimos. It hit the Nergal colony and...destroyed it. Outright."

Valentine blinked in surprise. "You must be joking." She glanced over at one of the soldiers manning the consoles. "Status report on the Nergal colony."

The indicated man blinked in surprise and looked up. "It's...not there, ma'am. No signal."

"That satellite array," Kira murmured as the realization broke across his mind. "It wasn't a power satellite at all. It was a weapon."

"Oh, whatever," Valentine snarled. "We have the NEO-GENESIS, we'll just go out there and—"

The screen flickered again, and Schroeder's image disappeared—replaced by the hawk-nosed, grinning visage of Emmanuel Vargas.

Valentine scowled. "This day just keeps getting better and better."

"People of the Martian Sphere!" Vargas boomed triumphantly. "I am Emmanuel Vargas, commander of the Martian Liberation Army, speaking to you from my headquarters at Deimos. By now you may be noticing that the Nergal Colony, a longtime ally of the Zodiac Martian Alliance, has disappeared. It was destroyed, by my forces—and by my new weapon, the Beelzebub Array." He clenched his fist. "I address this message to the ZMA and to their puppet-masters in ZAFT. I will destroy one colony of yours, be it in space or on the planet's surface, for every hour you do not surrender unconditionally to the MLA. If you think I'm bluffing, just travel to the Nergal Colony." He flashed a wicked grin. "It is time for the invaders to return to the rock from whence they came, and time for the traitors to meet their fate."

As Vargas's words rang through Messiah's control room, the screen went dark and Valentine rubbed her temples painfully.

"Alright," she muttered, "we'll do it his way." She looked up at Kira. "Fortunately, Raclyffe pulled his little stunt while our units were on their way back here—so we can hack together a fleet and go put down Vargas once and for all." She scowled up at the dark screen. "It's sooner than I'd like and he'll have the position of strength..."

"That won't save him," Kira said. "I will take the _Fortuna_ and lead the attack."

Valentine grinned back. "I'd expect nothing less, Kira."

—

Everyone was in a frenzy throughout Messiah's busy corridors as Kira headed back for the _Fortuna_. At the very least, Vargas was true to his word—because the instant the clock struck 2100 hours, another golden beam from the Beelzebub Array lanced out and claimed a colony, this one the Event Horizon colony. Kira scowled at that memory—and at the unprofessional behavior and the slaughter and his own sick heart at it. He would have to bury that.

Kira sailed through the door and stopped himself on the railing at the opposite end of the corridor. He glanced up, finding himself on an observation deck overlooking Messiah's vast internal dockyard—and the _Fortuna_, resting in its berth like a coiled tiger waiting to pounce. Anxiousness and bloodlust were emanating from within its laminated armor. Outside of Lyle's use of the Tannhäuser, they hadn't had much to do in his breaking of Raclyffe's takeover—and they were itching to let out some of that pent-up aggression.

He turned his mismatched eyes in the direction of Deimos and let a scowl pass over his lips.

_Then into hell I'll go..._

—

To be continued...


	11. Phase 11: Sword to Sword

Mobile Suit Gundam SEED DESTINY - Red Planet

—

Phase 11 - Sword to Sword

—

**November 25th, CE 76 - ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah, near Deimos**

"So," Valentine said with a scowl, "that's Vargas's little superweapon."

Arrayed before the combined fleet of ZAFT and ZMA stood the full power of the Martian Liberation Army's remaining forces, all in formation around the pockmarked moon of Deimos—and with that sprawling weapon he had used to shoot down the ZMA's colonies, the Beelzebub Array.

Valentine stepped forward in the control room with arms crossed. "President Schroeder and Admiral Harkill, move your fleets out of NEO-GENESIS's firing range. We'll handle this in one blow." She glanced at one of the deckhands as the fleets began to ponderously clear a path for Messiah's main weapon. "Are we ready to fire?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good." She turned back towards the screen. "NEO-GENESIS, _fire!_"

The sweeping dish on Messiah's surface flickered for a moment as energy built up, and the entire fortress shuddered as it launched a vast beam of gamma radiation forward, the space around it lighting up with radiation. The blazing column of light sliced forward through space, towards the MLA fleet and the Beelzebub Array—

...and instead of destroying them, it slammed uselessly against the distinctive shimmering barrier of a positron reflector.

"A reflector?" one of the officers cried. "Where the hell did he get _that?_"

Valentine scowled in frustration. So this battle would have to be won the old-fashioned way. "Raise the beam shield!" she ordered, and seized the intercom from her chair. "Kira, Vargas's forces have a positron reflector up over that thing. You're going to have to fight through on your own and disable it first."

"Understood," Kira answered. "All forces, advance and attack the enemy lines! Target the MLA's positron reflector!"

—

"Break formation!"

Engines blazing, the three Impulse units from the _Fortuna_ darted apart and let a wave of beam fire tear through the space they had just vacated. Juarez's Blast Impulse lined up to return fire with a withering barrage of beam cannon fire; Gary's Sword Impulse and Kara's Force Impulse rushed forward around Juarez's blasts, both of them racing towards a squad of Strike Daggers and Civilian Astrays belonging to the MLA. The enemy mobile suits broke their own formation to dodge the Sword Impulse's opening sword strokes, but an instant later one of the Civilian Astrays went up in flames as the Force Impulse opened fire.

The Sword Impulse lunged up and sliced two of the Daggers in half, and then darted aside to let the Force Impulse shoot down a third. The remaining mobile suits darted to the sides to flank the two Gundams—and a moment later, two of the MLA units were blown to pieces by a volley from the Blast Impulse.

"Kara, Gary, move!" Juarez shouted; an instant later the Blast Impulse let loose a salvo of missiles that pounded another two Civilian Astrays out of the fight. The remaining two Daggers and one Astray clawed for distance and showered the three Gundams with beam fire; Gary charged straight at them and tore the Astray in two with his swords, and Kara shot down one of the Daggers with a beam rifle shot through the cockpit.

The last Dagger backed away behind its shield, but too late—the Sword Impulse rushed forward and chopped in two.

"Another squad inbound," Gary said, before anyone else could speak. "Two o'clock! Move!"

—

Up ahead, the sprawling Beelzebub Array was glowing with excess energy—which, Kira noted grimly inside the Strike Freedom, it seemed to be turning on Schroeder's fleet. If the ZMA forces were knocked out of the battle, then ZAFT would have to throw its own fleet into the battle and incur casualties—and it could not afford casualties.

Kira ground his teeth. He would just have to get to that reflector first.

A squad of Civilian Astrays rose up before him, but he cut them down effortlessly with a full burst from his DRAGOONs and kept moving. There was a reinforced team of ZAFT ZAKUs behind him, armed to take out the reflector, while his FAITH wingmen made a distraction at the enemy's center. Another squad of enemy mobile suits attacked; Kira darted aside as the ZAFT machines behind him took cover, and with a punishing salvo from his DRAGOONs two of the four enemies vanished in puffs of fire. He stormed forward and whipped up both his beam rifles to blow away the remaining two.

"Commander, a warship! Eleven o'clock!" one of the ZAFT soldiers exclaimed. Kira snapped his eye up and threw the Freedom aside; sure enough, one of the MLA's orange _Marseille III_-class freighters was driving forward, missile launchers and machineguns blazing. Kira narrowed his eye.

"Rajiv, keep your team back," he ordered, and the Strike Freedom blasted forward.

Kira guided the Freedom up into the missile cloud and blew the first few apart with a CIWS burst, setting off a chain reaction that threw up a thick pall of smoke over the battlefield. With a scream he roared out of the cloud and deployed his DRAGOONs to swarm around the ship and tear deep smoking gashes in its hull. The stricken freighter shuddered and turned its machineguns on the gleaming white Gundam, but Kira plowed through its fire effortlessly and tightened the DRAGOONs' fire. The _Marseille III_ quaked under the blows, and Kira finally let loose with a full burst from the Freedom's weapons to pound through the ship's engines and blow the vessel apart.

The DRAGOONs returned to their racks with a crash, and Kira scanned the skies for his target.

—

**Martian Liberation Army Headquarters, Deimos**

"Firing spread has been increased by forty percent," the deckhand reported. "We're ready to begin."

In his chair in the bustling Deimos control room, Vargas cast a smirk towards Keller. "They'll get quite a surprise from this," the admiral offered.

Vargas nodded in agreement. "Beelzebub Array, target the ZMA fleet's center and open fire!"

A shining golden blast lanced out from the Beelzebub Array, wider around than the shots with which it had already brought down two space colonies and three surface colonies. It rushed forward and swept through the center of the ZMA's massive fleet, nearly half of its forces by Vargas's visual estimation, and landed forcefully against Messiah's glimmering beam shield. A wave of fiery explosions tore apart the stricken ships, and Vargas laughed victoriously.

"That's right, ZAFT, we can fire through the reflector!" he cackled. "Keller, move our units forward to lure the rest into range, and we'll seize victory in another shot!"

—

Kara ground her teeth as the report filtered by on her auxiliary fleet. "Juarez, that thing just took out half of the ZMA fleet! And Vargas's troops are on the move!"

"I know," Juarez answered. "All units, advance towards the Beelzebub Array! We have to find that reflector!"

The three Impulse units charged and blasted down towards an oncoming squad of MLA mobile suits. The Blast Impulse opened fire and cut down a Civilian Astray; the Sword and Force Impulse rushed in, beam rifles blazing, to take down a pair of M1 Astrays. The surviving two Civilian Astrays darted apart—just in time for a trio of Murasames to scream into the fight, beam cannons blazing and throwing the Impulse units apart.

"Dammit! We don't have time for you!" Gary snapped, and whirled around to fling both his beam boomerangs at the two machines. The Force Impulse lunged up with its beam rifle blazing, picking off one of the Murasames as they arced around—but the rest pummeled her machine with machinegun and missile fire.

"Kara! Get out of the way!" Juarez screamed; the Blast Impulse let loose another salvo that ripped a second Murasame out of the sky. Gary threw himself into the third unit's path, swords alight, and brought one of them down with a scream to cleave the entire mobile suit in half.

"There's more coming," Kara grunted, as the three Gundams turned back towards Deimos. "We've got to get to the surface."

Juarez's Blast Impulse moved forward. "Come on. I'll cover you. Vargas's fleet is moving forward, but we can probably slip through."

The three Impulse units' eyes flashed and they took off with a shining trail of exhaust.

—

"We're going to have to commit the ZAFT fleet to combat," Kira said, even as his DRAGOONs pummeled a squad of MLA mobile suits. "There's no way around it. Keep Schroeder's fleet in the center and move our units around the sides, and we'll try to flank Vargas."

"That's not going to be an option, marshal," Harkill's voice protested. "That array just took out half of Schroeder's fleet."

"I know!" Kira shot back. "Just keep his attention occupied! Use Messiah's beam shield!" He clenched his teeth and threw the Strike Freedom away from a volley of beam rifle shots. "Get our fleet in there as close as you can and engage the MLA ships at point-blank range! Vargas won't be able to use that weapon if his own fleet is in the way!"

"Marshal, we're going to take too many casualties—" Harkill began.

Kira's eye flashed furiously. "Do you want this war over or not!" Harkill blinked in surprise. "Now do as I say and _give the damn order!_"

He switched off the line with a disgusted snarl and returned his attention to the fight. The rapidly diminishing MLA squad was beginning to pull back—just as the ZAFT units over Kira's shoulder opened fire and ripped the remaining three machines to pieces.

Kira looked up sharply at the feeling of a familiar pressure. "Rajiv, get out of here," he said. "Go for the array without me. Now."

The man in the GOUF Ignited blinked in surprise. "But marshal—"

A blazing beam shot ripped out of the inky heavens to blow apart Rajiv's GOUF, and Kira threw the Freedom to the side—

"You..."

Armored in gleaming red and white with a shining green monoeye, the Astray Mars Jacket dropped into the fray with its beam rifle raised, and in the cockpit Omega Suzuki cackled with glee.

"Welcome to Deimos, Kira Yamato! It's a fine day for a battle!"

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_

Lyle fixed his eyes on the warship in the lead of the waiting MLA fleet. Marshal Yamato's orders had been clear—the ZAFT fleet was to move in and attack, tangling up Vargas's ships in a naval brawl that would make use of that Beelzebub Array impossible without Vargas destroying his own ships. And the _Fortuna_'s first foe, it appeared, would be the _Elysium_.

"Charge the Tannhäuser," Lyle ordered. "In the meantime, we'll see about getting them roughed up first."

The _Elysium_ opened fire with a burst from its Gottfrieds, forcing the _Fortuna_ to swerve to starboard. The blue winged warship returned fire with its Tristans and Isolde, but the Tristan shots merely grazed the _Elysium_'s laminated armor. Lyle cursed under his breath.

"Neidhardt, fire!"

With a burst of smoke, the _Fortuna_ let loose a wave of Neidhardt space missiles that went arcing towards the _Elysium_—where a vicious CIWS salvo tore them out of the sky with a flash of fire.

"Helm, Z minus twenty!" The _Fortuna_ obligingly dipped down and sank beneath a Gottfried blast from the _Elysium_. "Tristans, target enemy's ventral side and fire!"

The Tristans opened fire, but the _Elysium_ banked to the side and dodged the blasts. Lyle narrowed his eyes at the gray battleship as it curved around for another pass.

—

**ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah**

"What do you mean move forward?" Schroeder sputtered, his panicked voice echoing through the Messiah control room. "Marshal, half of my fleet just got blown away by a single shot from that weapon!"

"I know," Valentine shot back, "and that's part of our plan. Move your ships forward and get them tangled up in ship-to-ship combat with Vargas's fleet. If he wants to use that weapon again, he'll have to destroy his own fleet."

Schroeder paled. "And we're the sacrificial lamb?"

"Not if you get your fleet in position, right _now_," Valentine snapped. "Don't test me, Schroeder. You're still in NEO-GENESIS's firing range, don't forget."

"You wouldn't—"

"Are you willing to bet your life on that?"

Schroeder stared in helpless fury at Valentine for a moment, but finally turned towards someone on his end. "Move the fleet forward," he said.

Valentine returned her attention towards Deimos and the Beelzebub Array. If all went as she hoped, she would have all her problems solved today.

—

**Martian Liberation Army Headquarters, Deimos**

The Turn Delta stood silent and waiting in the hangar, even as all Deimos quaked from the battle outside. Agnes Brahe alit on the gantry next to it, already in his flight suit with his helmet in the crook of his arm, and he could see Sam Janelin arguing with two mechanics next to the Turn Delta's open cockpit hatch.

"What the hell took so long?" Janelin snapped. "I should've been out there an hour ago!"

"Take it up with the officer in charge," one of the mechanics started—

Agnes shoved him aside and fixed Janelin with a furious glare. "Let me take the Turn Delta."

Janelin turned up his nose. "What—you again? Haven't we been over this already? You weren't assigned—"

"I need it more than you."

"Like hell you do." Janelin turned towards the open hatch. "Don't worry, I'll bring back the Freedom's head. Call it a present or something."

With hardly a second thought, Agnes whipped his sidearm from the holster on his back and shot Janelin through the side of the head. The mechanics recoiled in shock—just long enough for Agnes to whirl around and kill them both with a bullet to the throat each. And with that, he shoved the gun back into its holster and ducked into the Turn Delta's cockpit.

"Lieutenant Brahe, what the hell do you think you're doing!" a screaming voice filled the cockpit, as Agnes closet his helmet seals. "Get out of that thing and put your hands up! You're under arrest for murder!"

Agnes flicked his eyes towards the hangar control deck, where the yelling officer stood, and raised his beam rifle. The room's occupants shrank back in horror as Agnes blasted the room into oblivion and stomped forward.

"They moved it here," he muttered. "Where..."

His eyes fell upon his target, and the Turn Delta shifted its rifle over to its left hand—and reached down to seize the Delta Astray's katana off the hangar floor. It was all too fitting that, in this glorious new machine, the Delta Astray would lend its blade to this last battle.

"Lieutenant Brahe, shut down the Turn Delta immediately!" another voice cried, echoing from the hangar loudspeakers. A crash rang through and Agnes turned to find an M1 Astray stomping towards him, beam rifle drawn and pointed directly at him. "Shut down the Turn Delta and come out with your hands—"

Agnes whipped up the Turn Delta's beam rifle and blew the M1 Astray apart. He stomped through the smoke and flames towards the hangar door, blown open by the M1's fiery death, and locked himself onto the catapult.

"I no longer obey you, Vargas," he snarled. "I don't need to anymore."

The catapult fired and the Turn Delta rocketed into the fray.

—

"Is that thing one of ours?" one of the ZAFT pilots began—only to die in a burst of fire when the Mars Jacket shot his Blaze ZAKU Warrior through the cockpit. The remaining mobile suits threw their own weapons up and opened fire, but the Mars Jacket darted out of harm's way with a blinding flash of exhaust.

"What the hell?" another pilot exclaimed. "It's so fast—" His voice vanished in a burst of static as the Mars Jacket shot it down with a single rifle blast.

"How can it move so fast with all that armor?" a third pilot cried. The ZAFT mobile suits split up as the Strike Freedom swept in and deployed its DRAGOONs.

"Stay away from it!" Kira barked. "Gain distance! I'll deal with—" He snarled in frustration as the Mars Jacket claimed another ZAFT machine. "Dammit, move back—!"

Omega Suzuki cackled hysterically. "We can't have these little grunts spoiling our fight, Kira!" The Mars Jacket jinked to the right, drew a towering sword from its back with its left hand, and ripped in half a Slash ZAKU Warrior. The remaining machines lined up again and opened fire—

Kira stared in disbelief as the beams impacted harmlessly against the Mars Jacket's heavy armor, and with a blast of exhaust the hulking red mobile suit stormed forward and chopped a Gunner ZAKU Warrior in half. Omega grinned victoriously and whipped around to shoot down yet another ZAFT mobile suit.

"All of you, get out of here, _now!_" Kira snapped, and with that the surviving ZAFT machines took off. Kira stashed his beam rifles in favor of a beam saber and fixed the Mars Jacket with a furious glare.

"Well, now that they're out of the way," Omega chuckled, and switched out his rifle for the Mars Jacket's second sword, "_let's dance!_"

—

A punishing salvo of shells streaked through space just next to the Force Impulse's head, and Kara yelped in surprise as she slammed on the brakes. The three Impulse units came to a stop, and Juarez scanned the sky anxiously—

"Well," Gary muttered, "that's new."

Up ahead loomed two white and blue mobile suits, one with a hulking IWSP pack and the other with huge blades on its wrists and ankles; and behind them floated a disk-shaped mobile armor with what looked like three folded legs. The two mobile suits darted to the side, while the mobile armor lunged forward, splitting up the three Impulse units.

"I think you guys are owed an explanation," a voice cackled, and the bladed mobile suit's pilot appeared on the auxiliary screen with a maniacal grin. "Meet the Sigma Astray, the Zero Astray, and the Mars Tank!"

Inside the Force Impulse, Kara steeled herself as the hulking Zero Astray charged.

—

**ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah**

"Commander Svante is reporting no breakthrough yet," one of the deckhands said. "We've lost about twenty mobile suits."

Valentine's visage darkened as she watched the battle before her. Schroeder's fleet was moving forward, but he was keeping it clumped together in a tight formation—and, as the Beelzebub Array flickered, she needed no Newtype powers to see what would happen next. Schroeder's scream filled the Messiah control room as his flagship was speared from prow to stern by the gleaming golden blast, and half of his remaining forces vanished in a pulsing inferno with him.

_Useless bastards..._ "Order what's left of the ZMA fleet to break formation and move towards the flanks. Messiah's beam shield can withstand the Beelzebub Array's recorded outputs."

"Marshal, we can't risk Messiah too," Harkill protested. "We don't even need to be here, in that thing's range. NEO-GENESIS can reach—"

"Admiral, shut up and go make yourself useful," Valentine snapped. She searched the battlefield for Kira's familiar pressure, found it, and cracked a smirk. Her white knight would not be defeated by something like _that_.

—

**Martian Liberation Army **_**Izumo**_**-class battleship **_**Elysium**_

"If we can lure them into one of the debris fields, they're done for," Howard muttered, as the _Elysium_ quaked under a near-miss from the _Fortuna_'s missiles. The _Elysium_ launched off a missile salvo of its own, and as for the _Fortuna_ tore them from the sky with a CIWS fusillade, the _Elysium_ ducked down—

Howard leaned forward and saw his chance. "Gottfrieds, fire!" The Gottfrieds let loose a quartet of pulsing beams that sent the _Fortuna_ swerving to port. Howard narrowed his eyes. "Don't let them straighten back out! Gottfrieds, keep on them!"

The Gottfrieds fired again, and paused only as the _Fortuna_ fired back with its Isolde and starboard Tristan. The beams slammed against the _Elysium_'s laminate armor, building up a dangerous level of heat, but Howard shrugged it off and watched the Gottfrieds fire one more time. The _Fortuna_ banked to port again—

"Lohengrins, _fire!_"

With a flash, the red beams lanced out from the sides of the _Elysium_'s engine block and into the cloud of debris surrounding the _Fortuna_. The wreckage lit up as the antimatter came into contact with matter, and the _Fortuna_ vanished behind a flickering cloud of fire.

The _Elysium_'s bridge crew cheered, but Howard fixed his eyes on the smoke and waited.

—

The Strike Freedom rattled as the Mars Jacket brought down both its katanas onto its beam saber. Kira ground his teeth and surged forward with the thrusters to throw the red mobile suit back; but it merely charged again, and Kira found himself forced to throw his saber and shield up to deflect the Mars Jacket's sword strokes, one after another.

"What's wrong, Kira? Feeling powerless? Is that it?" Omega laughed, and with a crash he brought down both swords onto the Freedom's saber. The white mobile suit staggered back; Kira deployed his DRAGOONs to pummel the Mars Jacket, but once again the beams had no effect, and Omega cackled with glee as he brought his swords down again. "Well, imagine feeling that way all of the time, because your own _body_ is collapsing on you! Imagine feeling that way because some hypocrite and his whore decided to turn you into their very own living battery!"

Kira's eye flashed furiously as the Mars Jacket brought down its swords. "You weren't supposed to survive..."

"Yes, well, it turns out things don't always go as planned, do they?" Omega shot back. The Mars Jacket surged forward. "Remember me, Kira Yamato, when you go try to build your new world!" The Mars Jacket slammed its swords down again and threw the Freedom back. Kira somersaulted over the next blow and stabbed forward with his saber—but the Mars Jacket was there to parry the blow with its left-hand sword and drive its right-hand sword down hard onto the Freedom's beam shield. "Remember me whenever you start thinking that what you're going to do is worth the cost!" He swung the swords again. "Remember what you did at Austral! What you've done to Mars! What you've done all your life!" The Mars Jacket reared back and slammed the Strike Freedom with an earth-shattering kick to the chest. "And remember, always remember, that every time you try to justify your actions, _it is a lie!_"

Eyes flashing, the Freedom lunged forward and rammed the Mars Jacket in the chest with its shoulder. The red mobile suit staggered back; Kira charged and raised his saber to seize the opportunity, but the Mars Jacket darted backward and dodged the Freedom's saber swing.

"Explaining to you would just be a waste," Kira snarled. "You're just a mistake, Omega—and I'm going to correct you!"

Omega laughed, even as the Strike Freedom went on the attack. "Correct me if you think you can, Kira, but you'll never be rid of me!"

—

Blood flashing hot and eyes flicking across the Turn Delta's spacious cockpit screens, Agnes Brahe scanned the battlefield for a sign of his once and future foe. A trio of ZMA GINNs arced down into his path; with a flash from the Voiture Lumiere, he darted down into their ranks to cut two of them in half and spear the third on a beam rifle shot.

"Where are you," he snarled. "I'm going to find you, Yamato."

Another squad of ZMA mobile suits approached; Agnes tore them apart with beam shots and untouchable maneuverability, filling the space around them with afterimages from the blazing Voiture Lumiere. As the last GINN exploded, he turned and rushed back towards into the fray, eyes continuing to seek his only real foe.

He clenched his fists around the Turn Delta's controls as a squad of ZAFT mobile suits emerged next. "Get out of my way!"

The Gunner ZAKU leveled off its cannon and opened fire, supported on its flanks by two Slash ZAKUs, with the Blaze ZAKU Phantom at their lead charging in close. Agnes ground his teeth and hurled the Turn Delta aside; he squeezed off a rifle blast that blew the ZAKU apart as it passed. The remaining ZAKUs pulled back and intensified their fire; Agnes charged forward with a scream, before lunging up at the last second and then dropping back down. The ZAKUs turned towards him in surprise—but not before he had already sliced the Gunner ZAKU in two. The Slash ZAKUs darted apart, beam rifles and Gatlings ready to fire—

Instead, the Turn Delta rushed toward one of them and ripped it in two with its sword. As the second opened fire, Agnes whipped around and speared it on a beam rifle shot, and took off as its stricken prey exploded.

"None of you matter," he snarled. "Not until I've found Yamato..."

—

The Sword Impulse rattled as the Sigma Astray battered with it a relentless stream of blade strokes. Vanfeldt's psychotic cackling filled the cockpit and throbbed through Gary's head as he struggled to focus on the enemy's sword strokes.

"Now this is more like it!" Vanfeldt cried, and slammed the Impulse back with a punishing sword blow. "It's so much faster than the Dagger, and more precise too!" The Sigma charged and Gary felt the Impulse lurch back; the Sigma deployed the blade on its right ankle and kicked upward to send the Impulse's shield spiraling away from its arm; and then, with another tooth-rattling crash, it slammed its right-hand blade down onto the Impulse's swords and sent the red mobile suit reeling. "And these blades have so much more heft than the beam saber! It's wonderful! It makes fighting worthwhile!"

The Sigma charged; Gary scowled up at it and swung back furiously with his left-hand sword, stopping its opening blade swipe cold. He brought down the right-hand sword diagonally, but the Sigma slammed its own left-hand blade into the way—and then ripped a scything kick up the Impulse's chest with its right-hand ankle blade and tore a long gash diagonally up the red mobile suit's torso from which sparks flowed like blood.

"No way!" Gary cried; the Sigma hurled him away and charged after him. "He cut through the Phase Shift?"

"Gotta say I'm not too impressed, swordfighter," Vanfeldt scoffed.

"You haven't seen a thing yet!" Gary shot back; with a flash, he hurled both his beam boomerangs forward and switched back to his rifle to shower the Sigma with beam shots. Vanfeldt sneered and jetted back, putting himself in position to cut both boomerangs apart with his ankle blades. A moment later, he drew the Sigma's two beam rifles and returned fire, forcing the Impulse back on the defensive.

"Well, as the saying goes," Vanfeldt said with a grin; the Sigma rocketed after the Impulse, harrying it with beam rifle fire, "anything you can do," the Sigma charged, "_I can do better!_"

Gary hissed a curse as the Sigma closed in and slashed his beam rifle in two with its left-hand ankle blade. He threw the rifles sparking remains aside and took off; Vanfeldt pursued with a sadistic laugh and a storm of beam blasts.

—

"What the hell _is_ this thing?" Juarez cried, as his Blast Impulse jinked and weaved around a relentless wave of beam fire. The towering Mars Tank whirled towards him, with four long prehensile rods stretching off its upper surface, each spewing beam fire. The Impulse darted down towards Deimos, and Juarez glanced anxiously over his shoulder as he did; the ZAFT forces and ZMA survivors appeared to be closing in on the fortress, and the MLA fleet was faltering. But—

He returned his attention to the Mars Tank just in time to see the thing sprout three beam saber blades from the red armor covering what looked like its legs. The mobile armor came whirling at him, beam sabers blazing, and before he knew it the Impulse's beam rifle was in pieces and scattered to the battlefield. The Impulse darted backward and deployed its long-range cannons to let loose a full salvo—but the blasts struck uselessly against a shimmering positron reflector.

"Oh, come on," Juarez groaned, "of all three of us _I_ get the one with the reflector?"

The Mars Tank charged again, and Juarez went on the defensive with a blast from the railguns that impacted harmlessly against the swirling machine's thick armor. Juarez backed away towards Deimos, beam cannons blazing, and the Mars Tank came roaring after him.

"You might move fast," Juarez snapped, "but let's see if you're as agile!"

With a roar of exhaust, the Impulse jetted to the side, whirled around, and squeezed off a cannon salvo that smashed into the Mars Tank's underside—and against the reflector. It whipped down with its beam sabers and went spinning after the Impulse.

"Well, I know you have _one_ weakness," continued Juarez, "so come on and get close, if you dare!"

—

Kara ground her teeth in frustration as the Zero Astray's artillery barrage slammed head-on into her Force Impulse unit. Inside the Zero Astray's cockpit, Waid flashed a satisfied grin.

"So how do you like the Zero Astray?" he chuckled. "'cuz _I_ like it." He fixed the guns on the Impulse and opened fire again, pummeling it with more shells. "I mean, this is what a _real_ IWSP should be like."

Kara's eyes flashed furiously and she rocketed the Impulse up over the smoke, and then rained beam rifle fire on the Zero. Waid smirked back and darted aside; Kara stared in disbelief as her hulking white and blue foe showed speed to match its firepower.

"And did I forget to mention, it's _fast_."

The Zero slammed the Impulse with a third barrage of artillery and ducked aside from Kara's return fire. She charged forward and lunged up at the last second, before whirling down to open fire at the Zero's exposed back—but the white mobile suit merely turned to the side and deflected the shot with one of the shields mounted over its shoulders.

"That's it," Kara snarled, "I've had it! You still can't match the Force Impulse for mobility!"

Waid grinned back. "Then come on and bring it, girlie."

Kara charged with a scream.

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_

Lyle let out an even breath on the _Fortuna_'s bridge. The anti-beam depth charges would be dissipating soon. The smoke was beginning to thin. Sooner or later the _Elysium_ would catch on that their foe hadn't been destroyed in that admittedly clever antimatter reaction trick.

"The Tannhäuser is still damaged, captain," Carlos warned. "If we fire it, it might not work—or it might backfire, or who knows what else."

"We still have the engines online," Lyle said, "so if all else fails we can just ram them." He fixed his eyes onto the _Elysium_ and caught his breath as he noticed its Gottfrieds angling to fire again.

"Captain—" the sensor officer started.

Lyle's eyes flashed with determination. "Engines to full!"

The _Fortuna_ shuddered to life and roared out of the smoke, revealing its pitted and scarred hull and the shortened, smoldering wings. The Tristans were gone, the Isolde was smashed, but the ship barreled forward.

Lyle gripped the armrests of his chair until his hands were white. "Tannhäuser, _fire!_"

With a roar, the _Fortuna_'s sparking Tannhäuser fired and threw out a pulsing beam of antimatter. The column of light slammed head-on into the _Elysium_ and ripped it in two with a rush of fire. The bisected warship staggered back and disappeared in a plume of fire, just as the _Fortuna_'s Tannhäuser finally gave way and exploded, blowing open the ship's prow.

"Engines, reduce to half!" Lyle ordered. "Helm, turn us around and get us back to Messiah. We're no longer capable of combat."

As the creaking, wounded _Fortuna_ slowly wheeled around, the captain glanced back towards Deimos. Marshal Yamato was out there, and he would have to win the battle without his flagship.

—

"There's a funny problem with becoming evil to defeat a greater evil, Kira," Omega snarled, as the Astray Mars Jacket pummeled the Strike Freedom with relentless sword blows. "Either way, _you're still evil!_" The Mars Jacket stormed forward and resumed the attack. "And not only that, but you're as evil as the enemy you defeated, and then it's _you_ who needs to be destroyed to bring peace!"

Kira grunted and threw the Freedom back from the Mars Jacket's scissoring horizontal strike. He fired his railguns directly into the charging machine's face, but the thick armor shrugged off the shells without a scratch and brought down its swords onto the Freedom's beam shield. Kira swarmed his DRAGOONs around the Mars Jacket, but once again it had no effect.

"All I have to do is outlast you, Omega," Kira growled. "You know that."

The Mars Jacket slammed back the Freedom. "Don't talk to me like that! You wanted your Newtype battery for the ZAKU Goliath, so you made me! And I wasn't all that you wanted, so you threw me away!" The red mobile suit charged, swords held high. "And now you're going to—"

Omega vanished from the Freedom's screen. Kira blinked in surprise and looked up—to find a pair of shimmering beam wings, and the Turn Delta, with the Delta Astray's distinctive sword stuck through the Mars Jacket's chest. The Turn Delta yanked its sword out, cut the Mars Jacket in two, and turned towards the Freedom as the bisected mobile suit exploded.

Kira let out his breath in a quiet hiss as the familiar face appeared on the screen.

"There you are, Kira Yamato," snarled Agnes Brahe, and the Turn Delta pointed its blood-stained sword down at the Freedom in a furious challenge. "No distractions, now. You owe me a battle."

Kira steeled himself, and the Turn Delta's eyes flashed.

—

To be concluded...


	12. Phase 12: Hero of ZAFT

Mobile Suit Gundam SEED DESTINY - Red Planet

—

Phase 12 - Hero of ZAFT

—

**November 25th, CE 76 - Martian Liberation Army Headquarters, Deimos**

Emmanuel Vargas felt panic rising in his chest as the reports streamed in. ZAFT units breaking through at no less than six points in his defense line; the ZAFT and ZMA fleet closing in, with the former punching holes in his own forces. The Beelzebub Array was rapidly becoming useless—because ZAFT's mobile fortress could stand up to its shots and his own fleet was now in his way.

Vargas glanced at an aide. "Get the _Arcadia_ ready to depart," he hissed. The soldier saluted and headed for one of the intercoms, and Vargas returned his attention to the screen. "Why is the enemy breaking up our defensive line?"

"They haven't reached the surface yet, sir," Keller answered. "We're still in control. And there's no way their ships will last long in point-blank combat against our own."

The generalissimo stared grimly at the screen and tried to make himself believe that.

—

With the Sigma Astray's blows raining down on him and rattling his Sword Impulse unit to the core, Gary Talon clenched his fists around the controls and waited for his opening. The Sigma Astray leveled off its beam rifles and opened fire; Gary darted up over the shots and charged. He slammed his swords together and descended for the kill with a scream—

Instead, the Sigma Astray lunged forward, a short blade sprung out of its right knee, and the white and blue mobile suit knocked the Impulse's swords back apart. Vanfeldt followed up with a sweeping kick to the Impulse's head and sent it reeling—and with a crash, he opened fire with another beam rifle barrage to scorch the stunned Impulse's armor.

"You can do better than _this_, can't you?" he laughed. "I was hoping my first Gundam kill would be a little more _climactic!_"

The Impulse lunged forward with a scissoring sword swipe; the Sigma Astray darted back, out of range, and fired forward two anchors out of its forearms. The tips wrapped themselves around the Impulse's left-hand sword, and with a hard yank, Vanfeldt tore it from the Impulse's grip and hurled it away.

Gary risked a glance around the battlefield, even as the Sigma Astray filled the sky with more firepower. The _Fortuna_ was nowhere to be seen—so another Silhouette pack was not an option...as though this thing would let him swap equipment.

"Now now, don't go spacing out on me!" Vanfeldt cried, and with a crash he brought down one of his blades onto the Impulse's remaining sword. "If you do that, then you'll die!"

—

Beam fire filled the sky as Juarez Recardo felt his Blast Impulse hit the surface of Deimos with a solid crash. He jetted backward as the Mars Tank came down after him and deployed one of its legs, tipped with a beam claw, to swipe viciously at him.

"If I can't get through that reflector with firepower," he grunted, "then I'll do it like _this!_"

The Impulse skated around the Mars Tank's furious beam fire and stormed forward. It drew both ends of its beam javelin, slammed them together, ignited the blades, and charged in for the kill—

Instead, the Mars Tank effortlessly unfolded one of its legs and caught the javelin blow on one of its beam claws. Juarez yelped in surprise; a moment later, the Mars Tank whirled around with another leg deployed and pushed the Impulse aside; and then the third leg came down and ripped off the Blast Silhouette's two cannons. Juarez threw his wounded machine back to avoid the first leg's swing and felt Deimos shudder as the Mars Tank landed back in the dust, prehensile beam guns waving.

"Well," he grunted, "let's try this again."

The Mars Tank opened fire with a large cannon on its main body, sending forward a bright red beam to rip up the moon's surface. Juarez rocketed backward and returned fire with his railguns; as expected, the shots impacted harmlessly against the shimmering reflector. The Mars Tank rushed forward and shrugged off the Impulse's railgun shells—

With a crash that rattled Juarez's teeth, the Mars Tank wrapped one of its prehensile guns around the Impulse's right leg and slammed it down into the dirt. Juarez's eyes went wide as he saw the main body cannon angle towards him—

"Oh no you don't!"

The Impulse roared backward with a blast of exhaust just as the Mars Tank fired, blowing off the Impulse's right leg at the knee. The rest of the machine lunged back and back into the sky; the Mars Tank followed up with a punishing beam cannon salvo that forced the Impulse back on the defensive.

"Well, that could've gone worse," Juarez grunted. "Come on, you bastard! Come a little closer!"

—

The Force Impulse quaked under the Zero Astray's relentless firepower, and Kara ground her teeth at the enemy pilot's equally relentless laughter filling her cockpit. Something had to shut the stupid bastard up.

With a blast of exhaust, the Impulse jetted aside from the Zero's barrage and went on the attack. Kara let loose a beam rifle salvo—only for the Zero to deflect her shots with its shield and burst to the side. Kara whipped around, shield ready for the next attack—

Instead, the Zero fired off a grenade from its beam rifle and slammed it into the center of Kara's shield, shattering it in a burst of fire. Kara abandoned the useless remains with a curse and darted aside again as the Zero opened fire once more.

"I didn't know it could do that!" Waid laughed. "_Cool!_"

Kara charged forward with a scream and drew a beam saber. The Zero darted backward, but too late—the Impulse swept its saber through the Zero's beam rifle and blew it apart. Waid snarled a curse and lunged back, just long enough to draw an anti-ship sword from the IWSP and slam it down against the Impulse's saber.

"You are not going to stop us!" Kara screamed. "We are going to destroy you, and return to the Earth Sphere, and reclaim our homeland!"

"Oh, don't start that shit with me," Waid said with a sigh. "I lived in Orb, girlie. Been there, done that," he flashed a manic grin, "_and now I'm here!_" The Zero flung the Impulse down with its sword and charged.

—

Kira Yamato stared across the battlefield at his gleaming opponent, sword in its right hand, beam rifle in its left, fury burning in its pilot's eyes, wings of light shimmering in the shifting light of the battle.

"It's strange," Agnes Brahe said quietly. "I used to be confused about you, Yamato. You came here and brought war to Mars, but you fought cleanly. I heard stories about you from the Earth Sphere, about the Valentine War and the Junius War. I thought you were maybe just misguided."

The Turn Delta's eyes flashed and in an instant it was on the attack. Kira lunged back and swarmed his DRAGOONs—but the shots passed through only afterimages as the Turn Delta closed in and brought its katana down with a crash onto the Strike Freedom's beam saber.

"But I wasn't wrong, wasn't I?" Agnes roared. Kira brought his DRAGOONs to bear, but the Turn Delta ignited its thrusters and threw both mobile suits back as the mobile weapons opened fire. "I was wrong about everything, wasn't I?" The Turn Delta spiraled up above the Freedom amid a storm of afterimages—and Kira ground his teeth as he felt its beam rifle shots pound against his beam shield. "Setona was right, we should have stayed out of this war!"

Kira's eye flashed. "Then why don't you just surrender now?"

The Turn Delta charged and threw the Freedom back with a powerful overhead hack from its katana. "Because that would be pointless!" The Turn Delta came back again with a furious katana stab; Kira parried the blade with his shield and brought his own saber up towards the Turn Delta's waist—but the red mobile suit ignited a beam saber from the forearm armor of its left arm, deflected the blade effortlessly, and then brought its left knee up hard into the Freedom's chest. "Not after what you did to my people!" Agnes brought his sword down hard onto the Freedom's saber. "No, I won't surrender to you, not before my people have been avenged!"

Kira scowled back, even as the Turn Delta sent his Gundam reeling with another powerful hit. "Don't act like a victim here! Not with that system—"

"You have no right to talk about that!" Agnes screamed, and charged again. Kira somersaulted over his foe's head and whirled around to strike its exposed back—only for the Turn Delta to whip around and fire a beam rifle shot into the Freedom's face, scorching the left side of its head. Kira darted aside as the Turn Delta showered him with beam rifle fire and swarmed his DRAGOONs around the red mobile suit; the Turn Delta effortlessly slipped out of the web of firepower with afterimages swirling around it. "You have no right to say _anything!_"

—

**ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah**

Valentine braced herself as Messiah quaked under another hit from Vargas's damned Beelzebub Array. The fortress's beam shield had held up to one shot already, and it seemed to be blocking this one as well—but Valentine was not eager to see how more it could take.

"ZAFT units, this is Messiah," she said into the intercom. "All units pull away from the Beelzebub Array and Messiah's firing path. We are charging NEO-GENESIS to fire as soon as the positron reflector is down." She replaced the intercom on her armrest and glanced up at Harkill. "We should be able to catch the MLA fleet with this too."

"We'll also catch the remaining ZMA ships," Harkill warned.

Valentine shrugged at the thought. "We don't need them. Let them fry."

She turned back towards the screen and reached out to find Kira Yamato, locked in battle with the familiar hint of presence called Agnes Brahe—a fine dragon for her knight to slay.

—

"I wish you hadn't taken the missile launchers too," Juarez groaned, "but this'll have to do!"

The wounded Blast Impulse threw itself to the ground as the Mars Tank opened up with another withering beam gun barrage, and Juarez darted along the ground towards the enemy's exposed underside. He squeezed off a railgun salvo into the Mars Tank's belly and the hulking mobile armor staggered from the blow—but an instant later, Juarez roared away to safety as the Mars Tank brought down one of its claws, beams blazing.

"Oh, come on!" he cried. "Not even a scratch?"

A moment later, the Mars Tank folded up its legs, ignited its beam sabers, and came twirling forward. Juarez dove to the side to dodge its blades—only for one of the legs to spring out, clamp itself onto the Impulse's left shoulder, and fling the mobile suit down into the surface of Deimos. Juarez screamed as the Impulse lost its entire left arm and what remained of its Blast Silhouette.

"Dammit, that's not good," he grunted. "Come on, _Fortuna_, a new Chest Flyer and a Silhouette pack would be nice right about now...!"

The Mars Tank came down with a crash, leg raised with beam claws alight; Juarez flung the Impulse over its shoulder and kicked off the moon's surface with his machine's remaining foot, and rushed back into the sky to dodge another wave of beam fire.

—

Crashing down onto the Sword Impulse, the Sigma Astray whirled around with both its blades deployed and slammed the Impulse's sword with a punishing series of blade strokes. Vanfeldt cackled with delight and whipped the Sigma around, and with a bone-rattling slam he brought the blade down again and painfully hurled the red and white mobile suit back.

"_Ha!_" The Sigma followed up with a vicious knee to the chest that tore another gash into the Impulse's armor, and Gary threw his crippled machine back, sparks flying. "Is that all you got? I wanted a real challenge to test out my Sigma!"

Gary ground his teeth in frustration and watched as the Sigma drew both its beam rifles and leveled them off. He immediately backflipped over them and ejected what remained of the Sword Silhouette. The backpack hurtled towards the Sigma; Gary quickly righted himself and opened fire with the CIWS to blow the Silhouette pack apart. Vanfeldt stopped short in surprise—

An instant later, Gary blasted through the smoke with a scream and sliced the Sigma's beam rifles in two with his sword. Vanfeldt abandoned the ruined weapons with a snarl and deployed his blades again.

"Not bad," Vanfeldt snarled, "but you've only got one blade and I've got _six!_"

The Sigma Astray fired forward its left-hand anchor, wrapped it around the Impulse's left arm, and yanked it closer—and the Impulse shuddered as the Sigma sliced off its left arm at the shoulder and slammed it in the back with its knee.

"Dammit," Gary grunted, "I'm running out of options...!"

—

The Zero Astray relentlessly pelted the Force Impulse with machinegun bullets, even as Kara struggled not to let her all-important beam rifle and Force Silhouette pack get hit. She hurled the Impulse down beneath the Zero's line of fire and them stormed back up—and with a crash, she drove her beam saber through the Zero Astray's dual Gatling shield, blowing it apart.

"Goddammit!" Waid screamed; the Impulse leveled its beam rifle off for a point-blank killing shot, but the Zero drew its second sword with a flash and tore the rifle in two. Kara backed away and drew her second saber, and ran her tongue over her teeth with a grin.

"Now to get rid of the rest of those guns," she said, "and we'll make this fight fair!"

"Like hell you will!" Waid shot back; with a crash, the Zero opened fire again and pounded the Impulse with artillery shells. The Impulse darted aside and rushed towards the Zero's back; Waid whirled around with swords raised and slapped the Impulse aside, and Kara hissed a curse as Waid let loose the Zero's twelve missiles. She backed away with her CIWS guns blazing—but the Zero Astray charged through the smoke and pounded its swords down onto her sabers, and the Impulse shuddered under the blow.

Kara scowled back at the Zero as it opened fire again. "Just need to outlast you..."

—

"You just don't understand," Kira snarled, as the Turn Delta showered his machine with beam fire. "You weren't at the Earth Sphere. You have no idea what's waiting back there!"

Agnes came roaring down with a furious scream and pounded the Strike Freedom with a powerful overhead swing. "There is _nothing_ there that could _possibly_ be worse than _you!_"

"I haven't committed genocide—" Kira began.

The Turn Delta rushed him again and Kira ground his teeth as his white Gundam took a vicious katana swipe to the torso, rendering useless his Callidus cannon. "Tell that to my people!" Agnes shrieked. "_Tell that to my people as I send you to hell!_"

Kira somersaulted over the charging Turn Delta and whipped around, deploying his beam rifles to open fire—but the Turn Delta was there in a flash to slash them both in two with its katana and then drive the blade down onto the Freedom's beam shield. Kira deployed his railguns—but the Turn Delta cut their barrels in two. Kira swarmed his DRAGOONs around the Turn Delta, filling the black sky with beam fire—but the Turn Delta effortlessly slalomed out of his fire. And in Agnes' dull, furious eyes, Kira could see that he had seen the seed.

"If you're going to stand in our way, then you're going to have to be destroyed!" Kira snapped, even as the Turn Delta whirled in for another swordfight. "I have too important a cause to let you stand in its way!"

Agnes' eyes flashed in fury. "What could possibly be so important that you had to _destroy my homeland!_" The Turn Delta flung its adversary away and opened fire with its beam rifle. "Never forget this, Kira Yamato! You did to us what Blue Cosmos did to the Coordinators!" The Turn Delta brought down its katana with a crash. "Never forget that _you're no better than Djibril!_"

The Freedom jetted backward, eyes flashing. "If that's what it takes..."

"What do you mean?"

Kira snapped his eye open as the seed burst. "If I have to become evil to create a better world, then so be it!" The Freedom roared forward, beam saber blazing. "_I'll become the Devil himself if that's what it takes!_"

—

**Martian Liberation Army Headquarters, Deimos**

The panic was rising as Emmanuel Vargas quietly made his way for the warship dock. He willed it down and glanced around the soldiers accompanying him. He would get to the _Arcadia_, his personal ship. He would escape in all the confusion. Keller would hold the fort for as long as he could, but he, Vargas, could not afford to be caught.

How could it be failing? How could ZAFT be breaking through his fleet—his full, combined forces—and the Beelzebub Array? How could they have something that could stand up to its shots? How had his plan failed?

He shook his head. He would get to the _Arcadia_ and escape in the confusion. He would travel to the arms cache near Phobos; he knew it was still undisturbed. There he had the equipment to turn the _Arcadia_ into an interplanetary transport vessel, and there he would use it to escape to the Earth Sphere. As long as he still lived, he could return, with a better army—an army of Turn Deltas, even—and finally claim the Red Planet for himself.

Vargas rounded a corner and stepped out towards the dock. Outside the windows he could see the _Izumo_-class battleship _Arcadia_ in the final preparations for launch.

As long as he still lived, this war would not be lost.

—

Beams filled the sky and Juarez Recardo ground his teeth in frustration as he threw the sparking Impulse towards Deimos' surface, then pulled up to dodge a ferocious beam salvo from the Mars Tank.

"I'm only gonna have one shot at this," he muttered, "so let's make it count!"

He reared back and hurled the upper part of his beam javelin forward, disconnecting it as his arm extended. The javelin sliced up through the Mars Tank's fire and past its prehensile guns, and slammed straight into the hub connecting the beam guns to the mobile armor. The mobile armor staggered as the assembly exploded, and Juarez seized his chance to charge forward with a scream. The Mars Tank raised one of its legs, beam claws alight—

Too late to stop, Juarez slid underneath the Mars Tank and jammed his remaining javelin into its underside, punching through the reflector and straight up into the mobile armor's body. Sparks flew as the mobile armor twitched in its final death throes; at last it sank down and exploded, directly over the Impulse.

Juarez closed his eyes as the smoke and flames cleared around his battered mobile suit, now missing its javelin, and watched as the Mars Tank's flaming wreckage drifted away.

—

Kira felt the Strike Freedom shudder and groaned as the Turn Delta refused to let up with its ferocious sword blows. The Freedom jammed its saber forward; the Turn Delta slapped it aside with its katana and pummeled the white Gundam with a kick to the chest. Kira rocketed upward as the Turn Delta followed up with a beam rifle shot; but an instant later, the Turn Delta was above him to smack him back down with the katana.

"Don't think you can justify yourself to me!" Agnes roared; the Turn Delta scorched the Freedom's pristine armor with a volley of beam rifle shots. "_Nothing_ will ever excuse you!"

"I'm not going to let you make her sacrifice meaningless," Kira snarled—but Agnes perked up with a sadistic grin.

"Oh, you've lost someone too?" he cried, and the Turn Delta slammed down the Freedom's saber and delivered a punishing kick to its chin—and another to its chest. "Tell me, was she a murderer! Would she be happy with what you are now? Would she have done as you did?"

"_Shut up!_" Kira shrieked; the Freedom surrounded the Turn Delta with furious DRAGOON fire, but the red and white mobile suit easily ducked through an opening and charged back into the fight. "_You're wrong!_"

"Then don't invoke someone's memory to justify genocide!"

The Turn Delta came down with a heavy sword blow; Kira surged forward to catch Agnes by surprise, but the Turn Delta darted out of harm's way as he followed up with a vicious saber slash.

"The only way this world will change is if it suffers enough to want to," Kira snarled, "and if you're going to stand in the way of that, then _I'll kill you!_"

—

"Getting low on Gundam there, swordfighter!" Vanfeldt laughed as he slammed the Sword Impulse's Excalibur with a rapid and ruthless succession of sword strokes.

Gary glared back up at his enemy, even as sparks flew and his Gundam began to creak under the strain. "I've still got enough to kill you!"

"At least your mouth hasn't stopped!" Vanfeldt shot back, and the Sigma Astray rammed its knee into the Impulse's head—and speared its head on the knee-blade. Vanfeldt victoriously yanked off the Impulse's head and tossed it aside. "Seriously, if you'll just sit still, I'll just kill you nice and quick—'cuz we both know that's where this fight is goin'."

The headless Impulse leveled itself off with the Sigma, and Gary cracked a smirk. "You're from Earth, aren't you?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Then you must not know," Gary said, "_never underestimate a Martian!_"

With a sudden crash, the Impulse hurled its sword headlong into the Sigma. Vanfeldt deflected it with his blades and looked up in surprise—

...just in time to see the Impulse's combat knife plunge into the Sigma's cockpit and take off his head.

Gary dropped down in front of the stricken enemy, seized his sword, and slashed the Sigma in two. It burst apart in a thundering explosion and Gary's abused sword finally shattered—but as the force of the blast hurled him back, he smirked up at the Sigma's wreckage.

—

"Damn you, _why won't you die!_" Waid screamed, and poured artillery shells after the Force Impulse. It disappeared beneath the smoke, its armor blackened and Phase Shift straining—but Kara only smirked and ducked down beneath the cloud, beam sabers blazing in the darkness. "Don't think you can beat me with only—" He looked up in horror as the IWSP pack's guns went silent, and felt his blood freeze as his eyes fell on the ammo gauge—and the zeros.

"Ha! Out of ammo, are we?" Kara laughed, and with a crash she slammed her sabers down onto the Zero Astray's swords.

"You act like I can't fight with the swords!" Waid screamed back, and began swinging them wildly at the Impulse, angling for a hit.

Kara grunted as the Zero's sword strokes drove her back, and squinted through the sparks for an opening. She saw her chance, lunged back, and Waid followed with a furious roar—

Instead, Kara threw herself forward with a scream and drove both beam sabers into the Zero's chest. Waid stared in terror as the sparks flew and his mobile suit began to die.

"D-Don't think you have me beat!" he screamed. "My courage won't allow me to—"

Kara squeezed her eyes shut as the Zero exploded and hurled her back—and when she looked again, she could only grin at the smoldering ruins.

"Won't allow you to what?"

With that, the blackened and scarred Impulse turned and headed for home.

—

Agnes turned in surprise as the sensors blared, and found a warship driving towards him. He recognized the ship immediately as the _Arcadia_—as Vargas's personal ship—and in an instant he knew what was going on. His blood flashed hot, and the Turn Delta backflipped and rushed towards the oncoming vessel's bridge tower.

"As for you, Vargas," Agnes said with a snarl, "I have a score to settle with you, too."

On the auxiliary screen, Vargas's face went white. "Brahe? What the hell are _you_ doing with that thing? What happened to Janelin?"

The Turn Delta raised its beam rifle. "You're going to where he is, Vargas."

"Wait, Brahe—"

Agnes opened fire and scowled as the _Arcadia_'s bridge tower disappeared with a flash of fire. He looked up, towards where the Strike Freedom had gone—to find that it had seized the opportunity to turn its DRAGOONs on the positron reflector protecting the Beelzebub Array.

"All ZAFT units, this is Marshal Yamato!" he heard Kira's voice cry. "Get away from the Beelzebub Array _now!_"

—

**ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah**

Valentine stepped forward with a victorious grin as the words rang through Messiah's control room. Once again her knight had slain for her a dragon.

"NEO-GENESIS," she ordered, "_fire!_"

The brilliant column of excited interstellar gas flashed to life as the NEO-GENESIS system activated, and the dazzling beam slammed head-on into the center of the Beelzebub Array. The satellite splintered into pieces and vanished in the center of a titanic fireball, and Messiah's control room filled with cheers.

Valentine crossed her arms and smirked. First Raclyffe, then Schroeder, and now Vargas...yes, victory would undoubtedly be hers when they returned.

—

"I can't believe you're still fighting me!" Kira snapped, as the Turn Delta harried him with beam fire. "Your fleet is surrendering, your base has fallen, and your superweapon is destroyed! What more do you want?"

"None of that matters to me!" Agnes roared. "No, you don't understand—but maybe you will one day!" The Turn Delta charged. "Maybe you'll know what it's like to have _nothing left to lose!_"

Kira hurled the Strike Freedom back, away from the Turn Delta's swiping sword; he stopped short and charged forward himself, ramming the Turn Delta hard with his left shoulder. The red and white machine backflipped over the Freedom's finishing saber swipe and stormed forward itself, and the two mobile suits slammed their blades together again with a shower of sparks.

"Agnes Brahe," Kira growled, "I know full well that what I did to the Austral Colony was evil!" Agnes blinked in disbelief. "I know full well that whatever I say to justify it, it was evil! And you don't know, but we are going to do even more evil things in the Earth Sphere! But you don't understand what we're going to do, and why we have to do it—and since you refuse to understand, I'm going to destroy you!"

Agnes cracked an insane grin. "I think I finally understand you, Kira Yamato."

The sparks flew as Kira narrowed his eye.

"They said you were a hero and you seemed like you would only fight cleanly, but now I understand!" He laughed, and his terrible laughter rattled through the Strike Freedom's cockpit and into Kira's soul. "Yes, now I understand! You were never a hero! You were just _weak!_"

"What are you—"

"You don't get it, do you?" Agnes chuckled. "You keep telling me that you're going to build a new peaceful world that justifies all this bloodshed, but you really don't get it, do you?" His eyes flashed, and Kira felt his blood begin to boil. "You just don't want to go back. You don't want to let go of your power. You're afraid, or stupid, or—who knows, but I understand now. You're _weak_."

Kira scowled as Agnes began to laugh, and seized his chance; with a crash, he flicked his wrist up and knocked Agnes' katana skyward; with another flash, he drew the Freedom's second saber with his Gundam's left hand and swept it through the Turn Delta's waist, chopping the mobile suit in two before Agnes could react—

And yet, as the Turn Delta exploded, all Kira could hear was Agnes' hysterical laughter.

—

**ZAFT **_**Minerva**_**-class battleship **_**Fortuna**_

Juarez Recardo could only smile as he stepped out of the cockpit of his ruined Impulse unit and found Kara and Gary there to greet him, both sporting the characteristic grins of victorious soldiers.

"So I guess you killed those Astray things," he started with a smirk.

Gary merely shrugged. "It wasn't that big a deal."

"Then why'd your Impulse come back with no head and only one arm?" Kara asked, nudging Gary in the ribs. She turned back towards Juarez with a grin. "Yeah, it's over, Juarez. This stupid war is finally over."

Juarez clapped a hand on both his subordinates' shoulders. "Either way, I know you two fought hard today, and I'm proud of both of you."

They both squirmed for a moment, before Gary cracked his most smug grin. "Like I told you," he said, "it wasn't that big a deal."

"Now we can get back to work," Kara said with a sigh, "so we can go fight the _real_ war."

Juarez did not let his smile fall, but inwardly his joy began to fade away.

_Yes...the real war._ He glanced aside as Kara and Gary made their way over to the celebrating mechanics. _The worst war._

—

**ZAFT mobile space fortress Messiah**

They had only lost three ships and about thirty mobile suits. It was not a welcome casualty report, but all things considered Valentine was willing to accept it. They could still be replaced.

She sat back in the command chair and smiled. She closed her eyes and reached out—and found Kira, still in space, still in his mobile suit, doubt and pain swirling around him. But he was hers—that she knew. Nothing would wrench him from her. He had thrown himself into the inferno at the Austral Colony for her, and come out so stained with blood that they both knew he would be hers forever.

Their work in the Earth Sphere would be bloody. Thousands, if not millions of people would die. But so it had to be. Humans had always required pain and trauma to make the kind of change that would be demanded of them now. Perhaps they had grown decadent, perhaps they were simply doing as their natures demanded—but when ZAFT returned to the Earth Sphere, they would know fear. And Kira Yamato would burn into their nightmares the emblem of ZAFT.

Valentine ran a mental finger over the contours of Kira's flickering presence. Yes, as always, he would be her knight...and he would build for her a glorious new world.

—

_You're weak!_

Kira closed his eye as he slowly guided his mobile suit back to Messiah. "Weak?" he asked, and his own voice in the cold cockpit felt hollow in his ears. "Hypocritical? Evil?"

Yes, he was. He had demanded that Schroeder's troops obey the Corsica Treaty, and then he had nuked a colony off the map. He had insisted on striving for a better world, after he had killed Lacus Clyne and his own sister. He could never leave this life he hated, the life of a hero to a shattered and embittered people. He could never leave undone the work he had started out to do with Valentine. He was going to go to the Earth Sphere and bring upon the already-suffering people of the world vengeance spoken of only in their most ancient scriptures. He would become a demon, and everyone—even his descendents—would curse him for what he was going to do.

But he felt Valentine up there, inside Messiah—and through her, pulsing under the surface, he felt Fllay.

She had not died because of cruelty or chance. She had died to put him on a path, and though his heart still ached for the losses, he knew that there was so much more to be done.

_No...by the time we're done with the Earth Sphere, the world will be changed...or there won't be a world at all._

With steel in his heart and ice in his veins, Kira opened his eye and guided the Strike Freedom Gundam back home.

—

End


End file.
